


Crossing The Line

by Ayama_chi



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 67,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayama_chi/pseuds/Ayama_chi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorne was royally screwed. Not because he had just found out that his commander has a thing for him and he didn't return his feelings, it was because he did. The only thing that stood in the way was Lorne's integrity, and he wasn't sure he was such an honorable man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank the best beta in the world, Shari Maxwell, who without even understanding science-babble did a wonderful job with this fic.

“It’s not that difficult, Major Lorne. All you have to do is get down on your knees and open that impudent mouth of yours.”

#### 

Running for his life, a mixture of the pounding of blood and his pursuers' footsteps resonated in Dr. Parrish's ears. Upon reaching the gate he was about to dial the Atlantis address before changing his mind. It would take too long to fumble with the GDO, dial, type in his code, and count to five. Instead, he dialed the only other address that popped into his mind and flung himself through the wormhole.

The movies made this sort of thing look much easier than it really was, he decided in the split second he allowed himself to wallow in his own misery. The landing was hard and he bumped his nose painfully on the dry ground of P3M-736, but at least the wormhole disengaged behind him and no one was following him through.

With a groan he got up and tentatively wiped away the blood streaming from his now tender nose. That was it, the time for pity was over. There were people who needed him and the planet’s radiation was about to fry his skin, if McKay’s panic was any indication. He dialed Atlantis as fast as he could and transmitted his IDC. After an agonizing count to five he limped through, the stitch in his collarbone and his side causing his body to collapse as soon as he was on Atlantis’ floor.

Two marines hurried towards him but he pushed them away and looked up at the control room. Colonel Carter was rushing down the stairs, closely followed by Colonel Sheppard, in full mission gear. “Dr. Parrish, what happened? Where are Lorne and his team?” Carter asked as she knelt beside him on the floor, somewhere above the static noise of blood in his ears. He tried to speak, tried to gulp some air to do so and to pacify his burning lungs, but ended up nearly choking.

“Easy there, take deep breaths,” someone in a yellow uniform top was rubbing his back, but Parrish pushed them away too.

“Major… Lorne… was… attacked…” he wheezed and gulped down the entire bottle of water that was pushed into his hand, though it helped little in calming his throbbing throat. “The natives… took them all… prisoners,” he continued and then slumped against the person who was checking him. Someone above him cursed, and Carter’s voice said something incomprehensible. Parrish allowed himself a moment to regain his breath and then, with a pained moan, pushed himself up. Carter and Sheppard were already running up the stairs, barking commands into their earpieces.

“Colonel!” Parrish called, and both Carter and Sheppard turned. He limped to them and looked up through stinging eyes. His sweat was leaking into his eyes and the salt was making his vision fuzzy. “The situation is very bad. I’ll take you to there but we need to go now!” he stressed, and saw the look Carter and Sheppard exchanged. “Look, there’s a gate on the planet but there’s also one orbiting it, the one we came from. The settlement is very far so either way you’ll have to take a Jumper. My cramped muscles will relax in a few minutes and I’ll be as good as new, but I don’t have time to explain the complexity of this situation right now and every second we waste could mean someone’s life!” he added and Carter, after taking one look at him, nodded.

“Wait here. They’ll pick you up in a minute,” she said, and handed him another bottle of water. Sheppard was already running away, and maybe he was too exhausted to care, maybe Sheppard really was that fast, but it felt like in was only a second later that the Puddle Jumper was at the embarkation area and lowering its rear hatch.

He didn’t even wait for it to fully open before squeezing himself inside. “He’s here!” McKay yelled and the hatch was closed once more. Ronon got up from his seat to allow him to sit beside Sheppard.

“You wanna fill me in?” Sheppard asked as the Jumper exited the event horizon and headed for the settlement. It was ten minutes of easy flight, but the way Sheppard was pushing the Jumper, it would be five.

“I was doing observations over at the forest when I noticed that Major Lorne was half an hour overdue to check on me. We departed from the village pretty abruptly and they didn’t seem very happy with that so I was worried. I tried to radio them, but got no response. I don’t really know what happened there to merit captivity, but what I managed to observe before they spotted me was the Major’s team with manacles around their hands and feet, being led into a tall building, and the Major himself being carried someplace else,” he stopped because he still hadn’t quite caught his breath, and in that time Sheppard glanced sideways at him.

“There weren’t any Wraith involved?” he asked, and Parrish shook his head from side to side wildly.

“Oh,” McKay said, “Nothing out of the ordinary then. So we really _could_ have waited for Stackhouse to gather a bunch of marines instead of going ourselves right after coming back from a two-day mission,” he said with annoyance and turned to fiddle with something on his computer tablet.

Parrish shook his head once again, wildly shaking his finger at him. “Not all threats come in this form, McKay. There’s something you have to understand about this society. Every criminal is made to be a slave in this world, a slave that will be left outside of the village’s sanctuary if the Wraith show up, to be taken instead of their masters. In the meantime, they are being used as sex slaves. That was why we decided to leave,” he shivered violently. “They are very easy to point out, these slaves, because they all wear this shot red chiton. And when I saw the Major being carried away he was dressed like that as well.”

Sheppard turned to look at him so sharply that it must’ve hurt his neck. “Are you telling me that one of my men might be raped even as we speak?” he asked, his voice so stern and angry that Parrish pushed himself further back on the chair before he was even aware that he was doing it. Slowly, he nodded. “Damn it, why didn’t you said something sooner!?” Sheppard growled while his hand did something that made the Jumper shake and then tear across the sky.

“And what would you have him do, Colonel? Step out of the wormhole and yell ‘Lorne is being raped as we speak’? Like that would have saved time,” McKay told Sheppard, but it was the same kind of sarcasm that he used when the fate of the world was hanging in the balance, and his voice was just as sharp as Sheppard’s was.

At Sheppard’s inquiry, Parrish pointed out the location of Lorne’s Jumper which now parked on a patch of fresh grass, cloaked. “But there’s a field just outside the village that would be nearer,” he added, and Sheppard was there a minute later.

They parked the jumper in the middle of a golden field and near a ridge of medium sized trees, and Sheppard said, “McKay, you stay here and monitor the radio. This society looks agrarian-“ he looked at Parrish, who nodded in confirmation, “-but I may need your backup. Also be aware of your surroundings. This isn’t exactly a permitted parking zone.” McKay nodded and took the pilot’s seat. “Teyla, keep him out of trouble,” Sheppard added to the pregnant woman, who nodded graciously.

“Good luck!” McKay called at them while Sheppard grabbed a handful of Parrish’s vest and pulled him out.

“Where’s the building?” Ronon asked, falling into position and checking behind the tree-line for any threats. Parrish waited for his nod before moving forward, praying that he wasn’t too late.

Parrish led them towards the village, which seemed to be bustling with activity. It was a small village with low, square buildings painted white. The sun of this world was a bright yellow and the untamed area just outside the settlement was green and dotted with beautiful flowers. Through the spaces between the buildings they could see a typical marketplace, with the exception of the unusual amount of red-clad men and women.

The building the Major’s team was held in, probably a prison, was at the outskirts of the village and Parrish led them straight to it. “This is the place. It shouldn’t be too heavily guarded. I think.” Damn, but he wasn’t good at this military stuff. That was what Major Lorne was for. Ask him about the importance of an enlarged pistil in a plant’s evolution and he could write a twelve foot essay in a heartbeat, but when it came to strategic thinking even one guard was one too many for him.

“Okay, there’s a door here. Parrish, stay close to Ronon. I’ll take point,” Sheppard said and took his position before signaling for Ronon to open the door. Parrish was sticking close to Ronon, who had a dark gleam in his eyes, while Sheppard moved into the empty corridor beyond the door. Parrish had just enough time to take a bracing breath before Ronon hauled him in as well. Reed, a marine who joined them, brought the rear.

As it turned out, the dimly lit, tan-colored corridor and the rooms beyond it were unguarded. It was, as Parrish suspected, a prison, and it was empty with the exception of one cell.

“Sir! Doc, well done! You called for help!” Lieutenant Miller said as he spotted them coming. He had his face pressed against the heavy metal bars that made the walls of his cell, and his hand was in the vicinity of the lock, no doubt trying to pry it open with what Parrish though was a piece from his zipper. At the far corner Dr. Archimedes, the Greek scientist who came with them to check on the internal workings of a planet with both a Stargate and a space gate, was sitting hunched over himself and white with shock. He seemed immensely cheered by the rescue, however.

“Yeah, he did. Are you all right, Lieutenant?” Sheppard asked while Ronon pulled a thin knife from his belt and knelt beside the lock himself. The lock was undone with a soft click and Ronon got up, shrugging.

“Simplest mechanism I’ve ever seen,” he said in response to Sheppard’s wondering gaze. “How did they manage to overpower you?” Ronon asked Miller.

“They’re not the simple people they appear to be, sir. They have Wraith stunners,” Miller replied bitterly.

“Are you telling me that they’re in league with the Wraith, Lieutenant?” Sheppard asked incredulously.

“Yes, sir. And if they’re anything like Olesia then I’d say there’s no telling when the Wraith are gonna show up,” Miller confirmed gravely.

Sheppard swore. “Anything else we should be worried about?” he asked while Miller and his men took the M9 sidearms they were offered. But Parrish knew that there was. Major Lorne wasn’t with them. Sheppard noticed it too, apparently, because his voice was sharp when he asked, “Where’s Lorne?”

“Nothing to worry about except for the stunners. As for the Major, he was taken not long ago, to see someone called the Bender. sir-“ Miller looked at him with earnest eyes filled with concern, but Sheppard raised his hand.

“I know. Parrish, you have any idea where-“ Sheppard said but Parrish interrupted him.

“I know where it is. Come with me,” he beckoned them with his hand towards the back door from which they entered. He heard that place mentioned when they first entered the village, though their guide said nothing about it so he though it wasn’t important.

The light of the sun blinded Parrish for a second as he stepped out of the dim building after Ronon, but he blinked the after images away and pointed towards a house uphill. He heard from behind him Sheppard ordering Reed back to the Jumper with Dr. Archimedes, but when he began talking to McKay over the radio Parrish was already too far away from him to make out what was said.

He was, however, the first to see the horrific scene that took place on a wooden porch attached to the large house up the hill.

The house was painted white and was surrounded with blooming trees. On the sunbathed porch were colorful carpets and several tables and chairs. On a particularly elegant one sat a thin, bald man with a black goatee and expensive looking clothes. Beside him a young man stood naked, aroused, and white with tension. In front of him, wearing that mid-thigh red chiton and flanked by two burly guards, stood Major Lorne.

“It’s not that difficult, Major Lorne. All you have to do is get down on your knees and open that impudent mouth of yours,” the Bender said, his silky voice calm and amused. Parrish couldn’t see Lorne’s face, but he could hear Lorne’s negative reply.

“Come now, Major. I’m sure that expressive mouth of yours will feel wonderful for this young boy,” the Bender sounded like he would start purring with pleasure soon. Parrish shivered. The Bender, it would seem, wanted Lorne to go down on that naked young man.

“How about you take _your_ pants off and I’ll show you how good it feels?” Lorne asked with nerve that Parrish could not picture himself ever possessing. The Bender simply laughed.

“The time has not come yet. You are too wild. It is, however, time for me to start being persuasive.” With that he signaled the two goons standing near Lorne, and one of them gave a kick to Lorne’s knees while the other moved forward to pinch his nose. “You will do as I say, Major,” The Bender said amiably.

He was not so amused when a P90 shot his men down. Neither was Parrish, who dove for the cover of the ground and shielded his head with his hands. What the hell happened to warning the bad guys before you start shooting!?

“Let. Him. Go.” Sheppard’s voice promised misery if he wasn’t immediately obeyed, and when Parrish craned his neck to look up at him he could see the fury that distorted his features. His eyes were dark and cold and his hands twitched on his gun. “_Now_.” He said, slowly and deliberately.

Parrish expected Lorne to turn around, to say ‘thank you’, to run away from his captures under the cover fire, but he remained unnaturally still, staring up at the Bender from his crouching position. Why wasn't he taking this opportunity?

As Parrish watched Lorne rose slowly and turned to face them, face white, tense and bloody from a deep wound arching over his left temple. The Bender approached him from behind.

“Don’t move!” Sheppard warned, and the Bender smiled.

“I have no intentions of moving any further,” he said pleasantly and raised an M9 to point at Lorne’s temple. “Now, lower your weapons and come forth,” he said calmly. Lorne’s expression darkened, body becoming rigid with tension, and Parrish’s heart sank. He could see Lorne’s eyes looking around him and assessing the situation, but maybe it was because Parrish was bad at this sort of things and maybe because it was true, but Parrish saw no way for Lorne to run. Beside him Ronon was dancing with anticipation, gun pointed and finger ready on the trigger. Miller and the others looked like they would be happy to charge forward even if all they had to fight with was their teeth.

“Rodney, de-cloak.” Sheppard barked into his radio and the cloaked Jumper appeared in the air, hovering mere inches from Lorne and the Bender. Parrish wanted to laugh out loud.

“Now. _You_ lower your weapon. Or this entire village will be incinerated,” Sheppard’s low growl sent shivers down Parrish’s spine. He did not want to make an enemy of this man.

The Bender, apparently, thought the same. He lowered his gun and didn’t even managed to take a step backwards before Lorne’s elbow connected with his nose with a sickening crack of bones breaking, and Lorne’s other hand secured the gun. He turned around and kicked the Bender in the gut and groin, and the thin man fell unconscious to the ground.

Lorne looked at them while McKay got the Jumper hovering near the ground and opened the rear hatch. “Thanks,” he said, nodding his head at them, face grim.

“You okay?” Sheppard asked, approaching Lorne and putting a hand on his shoulders.

“I am now,” Lorne replied, glancing down at the unconscious man at his feet. A trickle of blood was flowing from underneath him but nobody cared.

Sheppard gave the Bender a contemptuous glare. “Should’ve killed him when I had the chance,” Sheppard muttered as Parrish got closer to Lorne and him. Sheppard stepped back to check the perimeter that Hansen and Williams secured because the remaining guards that scattered in the initial contact were bound to return with friends, and Lorne spotted him.

“Thank you, Doc. You might have just saved my life,” Lorne said earnestly, clapping his hand on Parrish’s shoulder and ushering him towards the hovering Jumper. Parrish smiled affectionately.

“Please, it was nothing. Not compared to the number of times you saved me,” he said, proud to have won praise from a dear and respected friend. Teyla helped him up and he in turn helped her pull an injured Williams in. The Jumper’s hatch closed and Sheppard took them up in the nick of time. Two blasts of Wraith stunners hit the front window.

#### 

Lorne sat down on the bench at the rear compartment and breathed in. That was a very close call, too close for his liking. He closed his eyes and felt the tension leave his body. All he wanted to do was get out of this ridiculous outfit and into a hot shower, followed by a nap and maybe a few sparring sessions with Ronon to ease his aggressions.

When he opened his eyes Ronon was handing him his yellow coat and Teyla was holding the medical kit in her hands. “Thanks, Ronon. I don’t think that Colonel Carter would approve my new uniform,” he said and put on the coat, still warm from Ronon’s body. Teyla made quick job with cleaning the cut on his temple.

“These people,” Ronon began, “what they did to you? In Seteda we castrate them,” he said while Lorne sat patiently under Teyla’s steady hand, and Miller snickered. Lorne smiled as well and allowed Ronon to thump him on the back as he got up, intending on catching a word with Sheppard, but not before checking on his men.

Miller was fine, as was Hansen, but Dr. Archimedes looked like he might never move out of the safety of the Jumper again, and Williams was injured. He looked at Williams and nodded his head at his arm.

“How’s that wound?” he asked. Williams had a nasty gash across his arm, though he insisted to Teyla that it was nothing compared to Lorne’s well being. Williams smiled brilliantly at him.

“Never better, sir,” he said happily.

“I am not so sure, Major Lorne,” Teyla corrected as she sat down to clean Williams’ would. “It appears to be very deep,” she added, but Williams just shrugged and smiled goofily at her.

“I’ve had worse,” he assured them, and Lorne shook his head. Nothing could dampen the man’s spirit.

“Just try not to lose too much blood,” Lorne teased as he made his way towards the pilot’s seat where McKay smiled nervously at him.

“Glad to see you back in one piece, Major,” he said, wringing his hands. Lorne smiled.

“Thanks, Doc,” he replied. “Thank you all. I think I just encountered a fate worse than dying,” he added. Sheppard winced.

“Yeah, well, let’s not mention this again. What happened to your head?” he asked, looking at Lorne’s temple with an estimating look.

“Oh, I just tried to give them a piece of my mind and they didn’t like it very much. I’ll be fine,” Lorne assured him, gingerly fingering the area around the swollen flesh.

“Good,” Sheppard said. “Want to fill us in on what happened or you want to save that for the briefing?” he asked as Teyla returned to the front of the Jumper and stood beside him.

“Sure. We left Dr. Archimedes with Hansen by the Stargate on the planet to do his thing and were wandering around the marketplace of MT7-233 with Doc Parrish when we noticed a lot of people dressed in red. When we asked the natives, they said that those people were sex slaves. They said that they were criminals who were tamed by the Bender and who were now atoning for their sins. They also said that when there’s a Wraith culling those slaves are left in the open instead of the villagers,” Lorne exhaled and felt the same burning anger he felt before when he heard that.

“Okay, just who is that Bender person? Parrish mentioned him as well. Was he the guy who stood with the naked guy when they captured you?” McKay asked curiously, and then his brow wrinkled. “Come to think about it, _why_ was a naked guy standing in front of you? And he was even… um…” McKay trailed off and flushed lightly, looking at his computer before looking back at Lorne. Lorne felt his lip curl with disgust.

“The Bender is responsible for breaking the men and women that supposedly committed crimes and were sentenced to become slaves. He do it by training them to be good sex slaves, and _that_ he do by raping and beating them up,” Lorne said angrily, and both Teyla and Sheppard turned to look at him with alarm.

“Major Lorne, he did not forced anything on you, did he?” Teyla asked, urgent and worried.

“Because if he did, I’m turning us back to that damn village and shoot it down,” Sheppard added menacingly.

Ironically, the tense atmosphere made Lorne relax. He was safe, and was amongst his teammates and friends. “He didn’t. You kind of interrupted in the middle of my first lesson,” he assured them, and somewhere in the back Hansen was screaming, “Hurrah!”

“That is good to hear,” Teyla said, placing a hand on his arm. “I believe that we interrupted your retail?” she prompted gently.

“Right. So we were thinking that we’d head back to the Jumper and get the hell out of there, but then Doc Parrish discovered a…” Lorne searched his memory for the words Parrish had used, but if was fruitless. For him most of what came out of Parrish’s mouth was ‘biblio’ or ‘bablus’.

“It had an uncanny imagination to the Boenninghausenia Albiflora!” Parrish yelled from the back, and Lorne smiled.

“Doc Parrish found a _plant_ that he wanted to investigate, so I gave him an hour and the three of us set the perimeter around him. Then we saw this idiot trying to rape a young girl wearing red. We reacted, and the next thing I know I was dressed like this and was being led into a prison cell with the guys, and later to meet the Bender,” Lorne finished, relieved that they were far away from the settlement and heading for the gate.

“Well, you can relax now, Major. We’ll be back home in no time and you can have the rest of the day off. Take a shower, beat the stuffing out of the boxing bag, put on something more comfortable,” Sheppard’s sly grin made Lorne’s heart warmer. It was just another touch of home after a long and awful day. 

“Yes, when will we be back home, Colonel? The trip to the village was a lot shorter,” McKay complained from beside him.

“That’s because when we traveled to the village people’s lives were at stake, and I pushed the engines. Now I’m flying at average speed,” Sheppard replied pointedly, and McKay nodded.

“Right. Of course,” McKay groused. “It’s just that, while being princess Harmony’s personal guard was satisfying, and my heroism finally acknowledged properly, it’s been a rough two days and I’m beat,” he added, and then turned to Lorne. “They made a painting to perpetuate my heroic acts in the defense of a helpless princess,” he said proudly.

“I hope you didn’t bring that home,” Ronon muttered, and Lorne grinned, waiting for Sheppard’s reply. Listening to idle chatter was distracting him from what almost happened and he was grateful.

Sheppard bristled. “Come on, McKay, most of the time the person doing all the dodging from Genii soldiers was me, not to mention that _the princess_ was a thirteen years old girl who proposed to me, so it wasn’t like it was all that hard to make a good impression. Now dial us home already,” Sheppard said, annoyed. Probably something that happened at the planet, Lorne guessed.

“Fine, fine,” McKay dialed the Atlantis address and pressed the engage button, but nothing happened. The gate they were approaching remained inactive. “Oh, no.”

“Rodney,” Sheppard warned, looking at the scientist with raised eyebrows. McKay tried a second and third time, the Jumper almost at the point that the wormhole’s vortex reach should it connect, but without success.

“The gate is still inactive,” Sheppard said, but McKay was already fumbling with the hooks of his computer and getting up from his chair.

“Oh, you’re talent of stating the blatantly obvious continue to amaze me, Colonel. Is that a mandatory skill for reaching this far up the chain of command? Move aside, move away,” McKay snapped, already opening the overhead panel and hooking his computer to it.

It took McKay a minute of pressing buttons and running macros before he unhooked the computer and cursed. “What is it?” Sheppard asked, sounding concerned.

“Zelenka speculated that this could happen. I bet him that he was painfully wrong, but he kept insisting on it,” McKay said, annoyed.

“Rodney, that’s not important right now!” Sheppard said sharply.

“Maybe not to you, but I just lost fifty bucks!”

“McKay!”

“Okay, okay, fine. Listen, the universe is infinite-“ McKay started, and Lorne groaned. Sheppard got up from his chair and walked towards McKay.

“Rodney, I swear it to god, I’ll shoot you. I don’t need the history of the universe, just fix the damn problem!” Sheppard commanded, voice harsh.

“I can’t!” McKay shouted right back. “And this ‘history of the universe’ as you called it is very important to understand what the problem is, unless any of you knows what correlative updates are? Huh?” he looked around, and Dr. Archimedes raised a shaky hand.

“Yes, well, other than the bathing genius!?” McKay snapped impatiently, but Lorne knew that none of them did. “No? Thought so. As I was saying, the universe is infinite. The stars are moving in it constantly, and in the simplest of terms: they change their position. Now, each planet is placed somewhere in this massive space of the universe and was assigned an address according to its relative position in the galaxy. It’s basically a set of coordinates that are represented by six symbols-“

“Rodney-“

“I’m getting there! Look, because the stars are in constant motion they change their location, so the Stargate’s network initiates correlative update dialing-outs, to compensate for this stellar drift. To know when an update is required the space was divided according to a certain grid, and traveling from one area on the grid to another will initiate the update protocols.

“Zelekna theorized that because in the Pegasus galaxy some of the gates are actually space gates, when a planet moves to a different area on the grid the gate won’t initiate an update until it too will pass into the same area.” McKay looked at them all, eyes wide. “Basically it’s like dialing a cellular number and getting a response that the mobile is currently outside of cover area,” he said, tiredly.

“I don’t get it, what did you just tried to explain? What are you saying?” Ronon asked, brow crinkling.

“What I just explained was the inner working of the Stargate network. What I’m saying is that we’re completely _cut off from_ said Stargate network,” McKay clarified, with a touch of hysterics.

“Okay, well, there’s a second gate on the planet. We’ll just have to use that one and hope no one will try to shoot us down,” Sheppard said, and was already reaching for the controls when Dr. Archimedes interrupted him with an accented, hesitant voice.

“No, Colonel, you can’t. You see, the space gate was put in place by the Wraith to make an easier access to the planet, and they programmed it to take priority-” he began nervously, clutching the seat of the Jumper as if it might fly away without him and nearly jumped out of his skin when McKay cut him off.

“What he’s saying is that as long as the space gate hasn’t initiated the update, the Stargate on the planet is equally useless!” McKay shot an angry look at the stuttering Greek, but it didn’t cover for his anxiousness.

“And you’re mentioning this _now_!?” Sheppard asked, incredulously.

“Have you been listening? I thought this was complete nonsense! I even had a bet on this with Zelenka and guess what? I lost!” McKay snapped back.

“So what do we do?”

“We wait. Until the gate will pass into the new address area,” McKay said, settling down on a bench and looking up at them all. “It won’t take much time!” he added, as if that was supposed to be obvious.

“How _much_ time?” Sheppard asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. This planet’s larger than Atlantis, but the gate is still trapped in geosynchronous orbit around it so it’ll probably take the gate with it as it spins around its axis… hmm… eight hours? Tops?” McKay said.

“And then we can dial home?” Lorne asked.

“I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t clear enough. Eight hours, tops, _and then we can dial home_,” McKay said snidely.

“Rodney!” Sheppard reprimanded him, and McKay mumbled something that sounded like an apology. “Good. That’s better. Now the good news is that if we can’t dial out then the Wraith can’t dial in. The bad news is-“

“That the Wraith are a race of life sucking monsters capable of intergalactic travel?” Parrish asked, on edge. Sheppard looked at Lorne with raised eyebrows. Lorne simply shrugged. That was Doc Parrish for you.

“Um… I was thinking more along the lines of Williams and Lorne are injured and the folks back home will be worried for us, but that works too, I guess…” he grimaced. “How are Dr. Archimedes and Williams?” he asked Teyla.

“Dr. Archimedes is slowly recovering. My presence… seems to help,” it was a well known secret that Dr. Archimedes had a crush on Teyla. “As for Sergeant Williams, I’ve managed to stop the bleeding. He will be fine,” she answered, and Sheppard nodded. Lorne nodded as well when Sheppard looked inquiringly at him.

“Okay. We’re going to move away from the gate and cloak the Jumper somewhere safe. Then I don’t really know what the rest of you are going to do, but I’m exhausted after being awake for two days straight, so I’m gonna hole up in the forward section and sleep. I suggest you do the same,” As soon as Sheppard said it, Lorne felt a crushing fatigue settling into his bones and turning them to lead. He wasn’t awake for two days straight but the experience at the village left him drained.

“Sounds like a good idea to me, sir,” he said, “got any room for one more in there?”

“Sure. Come on in,” Sheppard smiled at him. He reached into one of the crates nestled in the net lining the Jumper’s walls and retrieved the extra pair of uniforms that all Jumpers had been stocked with. He pressed it to Lorne’s chest and motioned with his head towards the forward section.

“Oh, good. I’m practically falling off my feet with exhaustion,” McKay chirped in, but Sheppard put a hand to stop him on his way to the forward section.

“Sorry, you missed your chance. The spot’s been taken,” he said with a pleasant smile, and McKay crossed his arms over his chest indignantly.

“And what am I supposed to do, huh?” he complained. Sheppard winked at Lorne before turning to regard McKay.

“You’re the one whose portrait of heroism is hanging in some flashy castle. Heroes are supposed to be resilient and resourceful, aren’t they?” Sheppard teased.

“What!? What’s that supposed to mean?” McKay asked, annoyed.

“Think of what Batman would’ve done in your position,” Sheppard was clearly enjoying himself.

“Uh… hang himself upside down from the ceiling?” Doc Parrish asked. Sheppard turned to look back at Lorne, who was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Miller suddenly developed a nasty cough.

“There you are, Rodney. You already have one suggestion,” Sheppard agreed amiably, and then closed the bulkhead door, effectively cutting away McKay’s complaints and Ronon’s sniggers.

“On a private note, I’m starting to see two of everything due to exhaustion and I figured you of all people would appreciate a quite place to fall asleep,” Sheppard said to Lorne, his voice genuinely tired and worried.

“Thanks,” Lorne said, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Sheppard merely nodded absently.

####

_Footsteps. No matter how hard he pushed his aching legs, he could not get away. He was painfully aware that that ridiculous chiton was riding up his thighs, but if it meant getting away from his pursuers then he was willing to run naked. _

_Puddle Jumper. He needed to get to the Puddle Jumper. It had weapons and shields and it responded to his command only. He parked it here, somewhere. It was cloaked, but the rear hatch was open. If only he could find…_

_His foot got caught in a tree root that stuck out from the ground. His mind was so keen on the Jumper that he forgot to watch his step. He crashed into the ground face first, the chiton’s simple rope coming undone and the fabric sliding away from his sweating skin. He tried to get up and pull the chiton around him, but it was too late. _

_Strong hands kept him down, pressing his cheek and his chest to the ground mercilessly. He was caught. _

_“Did you really believe you can run, Major?” That silky, amused voice sounded from behind him, not even slightly short of breath. “What a mistake. You cannot run and you cannot hide. I will find you wherever you are. And I will take you and break you,” the voice sounded so very close now, and hot air was rising against his ear. _

_A knee came down to rest between his shoulder-blades and a hand cupped a fistful of his hair roughly. “I will break you and you will like it, Major Lorne. You will learn to like it and you will learn to ask for more. You will be trained to come to me and beg me to break you.” The voice paused and a hand cupped Lorne’s ass cheek. _

_“Maybe you like it already? After all, you had yourself in such a tempting position for me,” the voice purred, and Lorne’s vision started to turn black. His chest was tight with frustration and panic, his breath ragged. He struggled, tried to move, but not a single muscle in his body obeyed his frantic commands. The ground tasted foul in his mouth as he tried to open it to scream, yet no voice came out. Hands were starting to touch him, hit him and caress him. He was going to be penetrated completely dry and he couldn’t even make a sound…_

Lorne’s eyes opened abruptly and he set up with a gasp, taking stock of his surroundings. The familiar, soothing hum of the Jumper’s engine pods penetrated first through the haze of the dream and he remembered that he was rescued, saved from that horrible fate. He was wearing the Atlantis uniform, one size too big, and was hovering in space, according to the dim dots lining the windshield above him. It was dark and silent.

Right. They were all asleep, waiting for the gates to come back online. But that knowledge didn’t stop his heart from pounding in his chest, or banished the slight taste of bile and desperation from his mouth.

“Wassup?” asked a slurring voice from behind him. Right. Sheppard was with him in the forward section, fainting with fatigue after nearly sixty hours up and running. His wiry body was lying comfortingly right beside Lorne.

“Nightmare,” Lorne answered quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone else. Nightmares weren’t uncommon in Atlantis. “Being raped,” he added almost silently to himself. According to his breathing, Sheppard was already asleep. Which was why Lorne was so shocked when Sheppard’s hand circled his waist.

“Don’ worry. M’here. Won’ let an’thin’ bad happen t’you,” Sheppard slurred, obviously not really awake. It was a testimony of his exhaustion that he didn’t fully wake up when Lorne did, because usually Sheppard was able to wake up lucid. Maybe he thought that Lorne was some woman from his past? It actually suited him to want to keep his loved ones safe and protected. And Lorne had slept beside enough lonely people off-world to be forgiving towards some accidental cuddling.

“M’here, Ev’n. Won’ let anythin’ bad happen t’you.” And then again… maybe not so accidental.

Lorne took a deep breath, one that stopped in his lunged and refused to come out as Sheppard pressed an open-mouth kiss to a spot right behind Lorne’s ear, one that made Lorne shudder. Sheppard sighed sleepily against his ear, sending a gust of hot air across his sensitive shell, and tugged him down.

Unsure of what to do and practically trembling from the effort of restraining himself and not do something stupid like jolting Sheppard awake, Lorne did as he was urged to.

“Y’r safe in m’arms, Ev’n,” Sheppard mumbled in his ear as he settles with his chest against Lorne’s back, one strong arm wrapped around Lorne’s waist still and a knee worming its way between Lorne’s thighs. A soft snore that puffed against the back of his neck told Lorne that Sheppard really did fell asleep this time, but Lorne couldn’t be furthest from it himself.

Nightmare forgotten, his single thought was: he was totally, royally screwed.

And not because he just found out that his commander has a thing for him and he didn’t return his feelings, it was because he did.

Lorne was gay. Gay for real, not bisexual or ‘curious’. He was a full fledged gay in the closet. And falling in love with Sheppard was the easiest thing in the world.

Sheppard’s as sexy as it can get. He’s fierce and loyal. He’s caring and compassionate, as far as the situation allows. He’s unafraid of making the hard or the scary choices as long as they were the right ones. His mind was always sharp and his unique sense of humor, once Lorne got the hang of it, never failed to amuse. His laid-back style of dealing with situations inspired calm.

Lorne was with Sheppard off-world while their lives were hanging in the balance and in Atlantis while the most urgent thing to do was quarrel good-naturedly about who gets to put the first song into the office’s playlist. He found the everyday man just as beautiful as he found the harsh commander.

He knew that Sheppard had his faults, and many of them at that. His first clue was Sheppard’s broken marriage. Lorne knew that marriages don’t simply break up. He was one of a handful of people who didn’t have access to Sheppard’s file who knew he was even married. Sheppard told him about it himself when they were traveling on the Deadalus, after Lorne was first assigned to be Sheppard’s 2IC in Atlantis.

He also knew that Sheppard is, among other things, awkward about expressing his emotions, is a helpless flirt and couldn’t stop being a tease and a cheeky bastard even when a Wraith was about to feed on him. He’s brash, sometimes, and doesn’t think things through before he acted. He’s a daredevil and has the most annoying tendency to go on suicide missions. And like Lorne, Sheppard has a lot more scars and faults hidden from plain view, but unlike Lorne Sheppard has a deeper darkness that lurks beneath the surface of his bright eyes.

But Lorne found that he can live with those faults. Sheppard wasn’t perfect, not by any stretch of the definition, but then Lorne never looked for perfect. Lorne was a soldier and a man, which was why it was so easy to fall in love with Sheppard.

Which was also why he was happy to have set the self-imposed rule of no falling for straight guys. These particular games were usually played quick and clean, with no strings attached. He chose that life for himself. As long as Sheppard was straight, and his record in Atlantis alone regardless of his broken marriage more than confirmed it, Lorne was content with being his 2IC and his friend.

And now… now he wasn’t so straight. He was definitely aware that the person he was holding in his arms was Lorne. He’d said so twice.

So Sheppard was, apparently, bi. A bi with a crush on Lorne, one which Lorne would’ve been happy to return if Sheppard wasn’t a Colonel and in command of Atlantis. And that was the part that Lorne was having a silent panic attack about.

Lorne never believed in all that nonsense about gays and the military. Being one, he still received nothing but praises and compliments during his entire time in the service. If Sheppard was anyone else, he would have gladly tried to approach him.

But Sheppard was not only allegedly straight. He was Lorne’s commanding officer. And Lorne believed very firmly in that particular regulation, the one against fraternization, because it was there for a very good reason. When Sheppard was straight he was off limits because Lorne really hadn’t the time or the patience to deal with converting a straight man. Off limits meant that Lorne never even considered it, his brain automatically classifying Sheppard as nothing but a fellow officer, a commander and a friend.

Sheppard’s words were the spark that set fire to that particular bomb. All the pent-up emotions, all the things he noticed in passing but never allowed himself to dwell on, they all flooded his head and made the desire to roll over in the loose embrace and kiss Sheppard nearly overwhelming.

It was a desire he mustn’t act upon, Lorne knew. The implications this could have on both their careers, not to mention the safety of Atlantis and Sheppard’s command, were huge. Huge as in Lorne being shipped off Atlantis if things got complicated, or Sheppard losing his command and landing in Leavenworth, and Sheppard really didn’t deserve that. Not for a quick tumble in Lorne’s sheets, because that was all it could ever be given their ranks and positions.

No. Not even that. Some lines were not meant to be crossed. Some others, Lorne actively refused to. Being involved with your commanding officer, especially when said commanding officer was Atlantis’ head of military, would put the entire city in danger. Lorne and Sheppard both couldn’t afford that.

So Lorne made a decision. It was one he reached fairly quickly, and one that was easy to make rationally, but made his heart sink with a sense of a missed opportunity.  If Sheppard could’ve hidden his crush that well and probably for the same reasons, then Lorne would contribute his part too.

But still, as he tried to get comfortable in Sheppard’s embrace (trying to wriggle free would probably wake him and that wasn’t something Lorne could handle at the moment, not to mention that it did feel safer and warmer), he wondered just how long had Sheppard had this crush on him.

He knew that things would not be the same between the two of them again, and he regretted it. He regretted it. He regretted ever having that damn nightmare. He regretted ever coming to that damn planet. He regretted that Sheppard was everything Lorne wanted in a man, or as close to it as it ever came.

####

Lorne opened his eyes with a gasp, sitting ramrod straight and looking wildly around him. Greenish metal, four chairs, the view of a million bright dots through the windshield… the Jumper. He felt relieved to be there, even if he didn’t remember the details of his nightmare.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Lorne looked around to find Sheppard sitting in the pilot’s seat and looking at him with concern. And Sheppard… wasn’t straight.

Lorne groaned and pushed that thought out of his head. Really, he had already decided that nothing could be done regarding that. It shouldn’t matter.

Lorne tried to stand, feeling Sheppard’s concerned gaze on him all the while. He managed to get to his feet and even raise his head and smile at Sheppard before the dizziness hit him, and he nearly stumbled. If it wasn’t for Sheppard’s quick instincts he would’ve hit the Jumper’s floor.

Sheppard eased him into a chair. “I thought you said you were fine,” Sheppard said, still close to Lorne and looking into his eyes. He really was concerned, and if he woke up curled around Lorne and was embarrassed about it – he showed nothing on the outside.

“I was fine when you asked me, sir. I think the sleep made it worse,” he said. There, it wasn’t so hard. Just like any of their other interactions… except that Sheppard was still standing closer than usual.

Sheppard reached under the pilot’s seat and pulled out a canteen. “Drink at least half right now,” he ordered Lorne. When Lorne was done, the cool water a blessing for both his killer headache and his parched throat, Sheppard pealed back the bandage from his head wound.

“How long were we asleep?” Lorne asked, wondering in which position Sheppard found himself when he woke, and how long ago that was.

“Six and a half hours. I woke up a few minutes before you did and thought I’d try dialing home once more,” Sheppard replied, cleaning new blood from Lorne’s wound with a wet gauze strip.

“Any luck?” Lorne asked, wincing. The wound was stinging and swollen, and on a different note he was saved from a very awkward situation with Sheppard by the skin of his teeth.

“Don’t know. You sort of woke up when I was about to start,” Sheppard dressed the wound once more and finally stepped back.

Lorne breathed deeper now that he wasn’t breathing Sheppard’s scent in. If he wasn’t hurting at the moment, he was sure that his reactions would’ve been unfortunate. The mere knowledge that this man, who was sexy and bright, wouldn’t push Lorne away if Lorne tried to kiss him or touch him was enough to make his blood rush south.

Crap.

“You okay? You woke up pretty suddenly,” Sheppard commented as he brought the Jumper towards the gate. Lorne winced. He hoped that Sheppard won’t remember anything if he mentioned nightmares, but decided to play it safe.

“Nightmares. I don’t remember what about, but I think I had them all night. Everything’s kind of fuzzy from the wound,” he said, busying himself with drinking instead of watching Sheppard’s response.

“More than understandable, Major,” Sheppard said, sounding no different than usual. Maybe he didn’t remember anything as well. “But I want you to have a chat with Dr. Bole before you resume active duty,” he added. Lorne couldn’t say he was surprised. He would’ve sent any of his men to talk to Heightmeyer’s replacement if they would’ve been in his situation.

“Yes, sir,” Lorne said.

“Still, I’m happy that we got you all out in time,” Sheppard said, and his voice was so ordinary, so day to day, that Lorne had to look at him.

Sheppard’s expression told a different story. It wasn’t something you could point out without knowing him, but Lorne did. His eyes were warmer than usual, less hard, like something inside of him gave way. His face was more relaxed than usual and his eyebrows weren’t pulled together. It was a subtle change, certainly not something grand, but Lorne was around Sheppard enough to know that this kind of expression wasn’t often seen there. Not even for his teammates.

This man had feelings for him, Lorne thought once more, hot and self-conscious all of a sudden. The atmosphere between them began to shift into something dangerous, something tense and loaded.

“I’m happy as well,” Lorne said quietly, finally, and reached his hand for the dialing console to distract himself.

To his relief, the wormhole formed when he pressed the engage button, and Sheppard clapped his hands. “That’s more like it!” he said happily and transmitted his IDC. They were on the other side of the event horizon and heading towards the Jumper bay before Lorne could even blink.

And then people began to wake up, McKay was already arguing with Zelenka, Dr. Archimedes was bolting out and running away, Carter was interrogating him and Keller was loading him onto a gurney and rushing both him and Williams to the infirmary.

He never got to see Sheppard again that day.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks after that god-forsaken planet the wound on Lorne’s temple was nothing more than a red mark, Dr. Bole had cleared him for active duty and he has found his balance once again. That was what he called his deliberate avoidance of Sheppard, at least.

It wasn’t as though Sheppard was acting any different from usual. It was that now Lorne could see things he never saw before: a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, never lingering too long but dragging across his shirt instead of being lifted. A brush of fingers when passing something from hand to hand, even when not necessary. A casual look in the middle of a staff meeting, and while there was nothing special about it, it was that Sheppard always managed to look just in time to catch Lorne’s eye. A short lift of his head when Lorne entered the mess hall, nothing more than a quick scan in the direction of the line, but it was that it happened every single time like Sheppard was waiting for him to come in. Passing in the control room or the halls surrounding the gate platform just when Lorne’s team was about to embark on a mission, always on his way to someplace else and mostly with someone walking with him, but he always glanced at the gate platform.

It was the small things, small enough that if Lorne didn’t know that Sheppard had a thing for him he would’ve disregarded, writing them down as a part of Sheppard’s mannerism. It was things he never really noticed before, mainly because he never really looked for them.

Most of the time things went smoothly between the two of them. They would talk, work, joke and do everything the way they always did. Sheppard hid his interest so well that Lorne easily forgot about what happened in the Jumper with all the other things to occupy his mind. But sometimes Sheppard would do one of those small things, things that he shouldn’t, things that showed how extra aware he was of Lorne, and what happened in the Jumper would flash in Lorne’s mind with the intensity of a lightning bolt. And if he was near Sheppard when that happened he would lapse into confused silence, unsure of what to do and hyper aware of everything that Sheppard was doing.

So he took to avoiding Sheppard as much as his position as Sheppard’s 2IC allowed him, and when he had to work in close proximity to Sheppard – which was often since they shared an office and their workstations were facing each other – he busied himself with work.

Lorne was working on his latest mission report (one that had a most irritating ‘niceness’ theme to it) when Sheppard sauntered into the office and made a bee-line towards their shared computer to put on a Johnny Cash song. Lorne smiled despite himself.

Early on, when Lorne was first elected Sheppard’s 2IC, they swapped computers and chose the songs they each liked from the other’s files. They later snagged an old laptop and compiled a huge playlist that went on shuffle mode to listen to while in their office, but Sheppard always cheated and started it with a Johnny Cash song.

“Anything interesting?” Sheppard asked, seating himself in front of his computer and, according to the constant sound of the bigger Ctrl key and the smaller Delete key, started emptying the spamming mails in his inbox.

“Nice,” Lorne answered, resigned. Sheppard looked at him over the top of his laptop screen.

“Nice?” he asked, eyebrows raised. Lorne merely shrugged and nodded. “As in McKay’s gonna sell his left kidney to go there, nice? Katie Brown will go into epileptic fits about it, nice? Ronon will actually have more than one sentence to say about it, nice?” Lorne shook his head, entertaining Sheppard. “Surfing nice?” Sheppard asked hopefully, and Lorne smiled.

“It’s just… nice, sir. The climate was nice, the gate’s location was nice, the topography was nice, it’s uninhabited, which was nice and the indigenous fauna and vegetation was… nice,” Lorne finished lamely, and Sheppard smirked.

“I bet Sam’s gonna love that particular report,” he said.

“Nah, she’ll understand. One of our Beta sites in the Milky Way was very similar to this planet. All you have to say about it was… nice. It could make a good Gamma site, though, which it the most important thing about it.” Lorne was not concerned. He knew Carter’s work from his time at the SGC better than Sheppard.

“_One_ of our Beta sites? Just how many were there?” Sheppard asked, curios. He liked listening to Lorne’s stories about the SGC, though Lorne had no idea why because he mostly dealt with coordinating Earth’s operations on other planets and regular check-ins with Earth’s allies and friends.

“We had a few. Some were compromised, one suffered a massive earthquake and one had these weird storms with sulfur residue in the rain. That was nasty. Everyone had to sit still for fear of doing something that would ignite the entire camp,” Lorne retold.

“Hmm,” Sheppard returned to deleting his mails. “Anything else on the agenda? Oh, here, I’m forwarding this to you, it’s something about some changes they made in the Pentagon.”

“I’m sure it would make a fascinating reading material, sir,” Lorne shared Sheppard’s lack of enthusiasm. He switched from his word processor to his task manager and looked up again, only to find Sheppard watching him with that unsettling, intimate warmth in his eyes. His gaze turned mild when Lorne looked into his eyes, and Lorne cleared his throat self-consciously.

“Uh… Reed is sick. He caught that weird virus from MP4-051 so I took him off the patrol roster.”

“What, that strange thing that makes you grow green stripes on your nose?”

“Yeah. Dr. Neaves said its clusters of the germs that make it look green. Said it could eat its way to their nasal septum and then he started talking about reconstructive surgeries and… well…” Lorne and Sheppard both shuddered. Most of Stevens’ team returned with that thing, all lying in the infirmary in isolation, sporting bright green stripes on their noses and happily comparing who has the biggest ones.

“Fine, but put Billick in his stead.”

“Already did.” A part of the reason why Lorne and Sheppard were a good combination was that they thought alike. It was another reason for keeping Lorne’s thoughts regarding any sexual or romantic entanglement to himself. “Also, I have the reports from the armory. We’re missing a dozen magazines, two knives, two M9’s, two P90’s, fours canteens, one Taser, twenty shock grenades, and fifteen TAC vests, out of which we’ll need seven fully equipped,” he continued, passing Sheppard a sheet of draft paper upon which he had made the final counting.

“Luckily the Deadalus is due to arrive today with an armory meant exactly for these sorts of things… Fifteen TAC vests!? How?” he asked, eyes falling on the numbers.

“Five were lost when my team was taken captive, three more were stolen from Sherman’s team when they were participating in that peace ritual, two were torn apart and five were taken out of commission due to physical deterioration. I sent you a mail about it,” Lorne answered, and then remembered. “Oh, and while you’re finally here, Coffman requested to return with the Deadalus to Earth. Apparently his sister is getting married,” he passed on the appropriate formal documents for Sheppard to sign.

“That’s nice to hear…” Sheppard stopped and looked at Lorne suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘while I’m finally here?’” he asked, indignant. “What exactly are you implying here, Major?”

Lorne looked away. It simply slipped his mouth, that ‘finally’. It was true that Sheppard usually worked from somewhere that wasn’t their office, though he still spent considerable amount of time in the office as well, contrary to the popular belief that he didn’t even go near paperwork. But given his newfound knowledge, Lorne wasn’t really complaining.

“It’s just that usually you work from a remote terminal in McKay’s lab or in the mess hall or…” he never got to finish that sentence because Sheppard had balled the draft paper and threw it at Lorne’s head. Lorne dodged it out of instinct.

Startled, Lorne looked up into amused gray eyes. He felt himself smiling broadly and, reaching his hand slowly and clearly visible to Sheppard, he swapped the paper ball into his hand and launched it back to where it came from.

Sheppard ducked. “Are you declaring a war, Major?” he drawled, amused. If there was one thing that could be said about Sheppard it was that he loved playing the kind of childish games that had an adult edge to them. After they landed on New Lantea he and McKay couldn’t get enough of playing _Asteroids_.

“I was merely performing defensive maneuvers, sir. It was you who declared war,” Lorne answered politely. He could see Sheppard’s hand itching towards the paper ball, and reached into his waste basket in return. When Sheppard threw the next ball, Lorne ducked and fired two of his own.

“Hey! Two is an act of aggression!” Sheppard said from beneath his table. Lorne could see his boots crinkling in the way boots did when one was crouching, but nothing came for a while from Sheppard’s side. Eventually he ventured up to collect some much needed intelligence, and was promptly pelted with at least a dozen or so paper balls in various colors.

Lorne beat a hasty retreat towards a little nook beside the door, providing cover-fire for himself with the abundant ammunition from his waste basket. He found himself smiling in response to Sheppard’s smirk.

“You’re never going to make it, Lorne. Surrender now and I’ll spare you,” Sheppard warned, his voice barely holding back laughter.

“You have it the other way around. It’s _your_ ass that’s going to get kicked by _me_,” Lorne promised in return. “Sir,” he added politely, and in a well organized and well timed sortie he managed to throw a handful of balls at Sheppard just when Sheppard was about to do the same, sending him down in search of cover.

“Let me make you an offer, Major. If you surrender now, I’ll clean my part of the office and you’ll do the rest. If I’ll be forced to defeat you, and I will, you’re cleaning the entire office. Alone. And unlike you, I haven’t emptied my waste basket in a very long time,” Sheppard called at him, and Lorne chuckled.

“Who’s the loser?” Lorne asked, allowing himself to be carried away in Sheppard’s juvenile game.

“Whoever gets hit first,” Sheppard deadpanned, sounding positively wicked. “You surrender?”

Lorne chuckled. “Never,” he stated, and the battle began in earnest. Sheppard was throwing balls at him by the handfuls, raining colorful papers all over the floor for Lorne to collect when his own balls ran out. Lorne, on his part, was smiling so hard his face hurt, and Sheppard was laughing endlessly, long barks echoing lowly around the office.

Neither of them managed to hit the other. Sheppard, despite the obvious fun he was having, seemed as determined to hit Lorne as he was to hit a Wraith hive ship, but Lorne couldn’t care less. It was fun, it was refreshing and it was not a mission report. If it was an official down time it would’ve been perfect, but this was nice too.

Sheppard was barricaded under the table and was quick to take cover and roll away from Lorne’s well aimed balls. Lorne was hidden behind one of the jutting walls beside the door, and was as equally good at hiding and avoiding as Sheppard was. Somewhere in the background the Lovin’ Spoonful started playing something that made Lorne’s heart beat in time with the music.

“No one ever told you not to mess around with pilots, Major?” Sheppard inquired over the beating drums and wailing keys, a little short of breath from laughing and diving in and out of his cover. “We always hit out target.”

Lorne snorted at that. “I _am_ a pilot. No one ever told you not to mess around with a mining engineer? We made it our job to always hit the target,” he retorted, and received a full shower of balls in return, along with a chuckle.

“Touché,” Sheppard acknowledged, rose up and started shooting balls one after the other in a row. Lorne, giddy with childlike exuberance, tried to hit Sheppard at the same time, moving out of his reach and throwing Sheppard’s balls back at him.

And then it happened. Sheppard was laughing, Lorne was chuckling, Sheppard was throwing a ball and Lorne was quickly pressing into his little bunker. The door opened and Sheppard’s ball, already badly aimed since Sheppard tried to take cover and still fight at the same time, hit Colonel Caldwell straight in the center of his forehead when he stepped inside.

“Crap,” Lorne heard Sheppard before he saw Caldwell, the soft hydraulic sound of the opening door gone unheard in the rush of battle and music. He surged forward with a heavy load to launch at Sheppard, but when he saw their visitor his fingers went loose, releasing all the paper balls.

Their office was a mess, they were caught doing something inappropriate while on duty and in retrospect the entire concept of paper balls fight was infantile. Lorne couldn’t help but echo Sheppard’s sentiment. He also couldn’t really make himself regret it. 

Caldwell, however, seemed very much amused after he got over his initial shock. “Colonel, Major,” he greeted. “Who’s winning?”

Sheppard looked at Lorne, a little lost. “No one is, sir. You interrupted us in the middle of the most crucial maneuvers,” Lorne supplied, smiling. Despite Sheppard’s resignation of the man, Caldwell was never anything but kind to Lorne. Lorne wasn’t in a position to win and actually maintain command over Atlantis and while Sheppard was, Caldwell seemed to be well over it by now.

Caldwell snorted. “Would you like me to go wait outside while you two finish?” he asked dryly, and Sheppard quickly stepped around his table and approached Caldwell and Lorne.

“No need for that,” he threw a paper ball at Lorne’s chest casually. “He just lost,” he said pleasantly.

“Cheat,” Lorne replied, without real heat. He knew that Sheppard would help with the cleanup. If he wouldn’t, Lorne could start forwarding Sheppard the many mails that were supposed to have been under his care but found their way to Lorne instead.

“I see,” Caldwell said, leaning against the Ancient door frame and pulling a bag Lorne hadn’t noticed before up from the floor. “How about some real men’s sport, gentlemen?” he asked, taking out a bright red, brand new football.

Sheppard’s eyes lit like a Christmas tree. He turned to Lorne and smiled broadly. “See this? This is what counts as nice in _my_ book,” Sheppard said excitedly. Their last ball went sailing into the sea when one of the marines forgot where they were and tried for a field goal. The ball went straight into the water and the day after it Atlantis was already floating in space.

“You’re like a kid,” Caldwell said, chuckling. “Tell you what. My boys would love stretching their legs, and Marks couldn’t stop fiddling with this ball the entire trip. So I’ll round the men while you clean your office, and we’ll meet you at the southeast pier at 1900,” Caldwell didn’t wait to be acknowledged, simply turned and walked away with a wave of his hand.

“As long as he doesn’t bring Jameson with him I’m game,” Sheppard said, looking out into the hallway. Lorne turned to look at him.

“Why?”

“He’s Canadian. He kept fouling the team because he couldn’t remember the proper size of the end zone and kept running too far,” Sheppard complained. None of them had the courage to face their office yet.

“Theirs is bigger,” Lorne pointed out, amused.

“Size doesn’t matter. It’s the quality of it that does.”

“Yeah? According to whom, exactly?” Sheppard grinned at that, and together they turned around to look at their office.

It was messy, and it would take some work.

“You know, strictly speaking the first one to lose was Caldwell,” Sheppard commented, touching the crystal to close the door behind them. Lorne looked at him from where he bent to retrieve a large bag to stuff all the papers and send them off for recycle.

“I’ll leave it to you to inform him of that, sir,” he replied dryly. “And just how long has it been since you last emptied your waste basket?”

“Too long.”

#### 

Lorne had to admit, he liked the paper balls fight better. He never was much of a football fan, though being an American kind of made it mandatory. Although he had the perfect build for it, he was much more into swimming. And he was happy to see Sheppard laughing as much as he did during their paper ball fight, despite his single minded stubbornness to win. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t really recall anyone outside of Sheppard’s team that managed to make Sheppard this carefree. He was strangely proud of it, despite knowing why it was he that Sheppard allowed himself to be a bit more relaxed around.

They had played football, or touchdown due to lack of proper shielding and boundaries, many times before. It helped bring the men together, alleviate stress and create good interaction between them. It went unsaid, but there was always the possibility that they will find themselves cut off from earth so creating a good working relationship was a priority. The scientists played Volleyball together on the mainland every month to that very end, and sometimes to mingle together with the military personnel.

Lorne’s team was now proceeding into their third down and was well on their way to get to the 40 yards line, even though they began defensive. The score was 36:38 in their favor. He and Sheppard were on the same team, Sheppard was a halfback while Miller was the quarterback. Lorne was their fullback and Liutenant Mark Stuart from the Deadalus was their center. Rivers and Stackhouse were wide receivers, though no passes were allowed.

The game was loud and hot, the noon sun on New Lantea a lot warmer than that of the original Lantea planet. The men were sweating in their Air Force issued t-shirts and crying jeers and encouragements at each other. Lorne suspected that it was only the presence of Caldwell, who was refereeing, that kept them from outright cursing.

Despite it being fun, Lorne himself was hot and sweaty after what seemed like hours of playing football. The breeze wasn’t helping to cool him off and his tags slid unpleasantly against his wet chest. The rounds were slow in progress, each team brilliant in their respective roles at defense and offense, and scoring a touchdown was hard.

Lorne was breaking through Frank Levine’s defensive lines so that Sheppard could run through the gap and throw the ball back at Miller. Miller was smiling like a madman, securing the ball against his chest and breaking into a run while both Marks and Hutchinson made a valiant attempt at a sack.

Miller passed the ball to Sheppard before being captured, Sheppard passed it to Lorne and Lorne had to jump over Rivers’ large frame on the ground before he could pass it to Donovan, one of their tackles. Donovan changed his direction, running across the field instead of towards the end zone that was swarming with defensive liners. He threw the ball wide in Sheppard’s direction and Sheppard rose high, but he never stood a chance.

The ball flew in a perfect arch, grazing Sheppard’s fingers before falling straight into the ocean.

“Not again! Come on, that was a brand new ball!” Sheppard said angrily, the game grinding to a halt. Donovan, who had passed the ball badly due to being in the process of being smashed face first into the pier under Keeper’s weight, flushed with shame. The other guys were swearing under their breaths and looking longingly at where the red ball floated on the waves, swaying gently. 

“Come on, don’t get your knickers in a knot, Donovan. Just go and get it. There’s a ledge near the ocean just beneath us,” Marks said, thumb pointing over his shoulder at the edge of the pier where there was a small ledge that was only four feet higher than the ocean.

“Donovan? He can’t swim. Even if he was a fish he would probably have drowned,” Miller said jokingly. Lorne jumped at the opportunity.

“I’ll go get it,” he said, heading towards the edge of the pier. Donovan looked at him with adoring, thankful eyes, and Lorne sighed. The newcomers, like Donovan, were ridiculously easy to impress and highly stressed out. Everything was new and scary to them, which was understandable, but Donovan acted like Lorne had just saved him from the Iratus bug.

“You sure?” Sheppard asked, eyebrows going up. He was as soaked as Lorne, the front of his shirt wet and dark and his hair messier than usual from various tackles.

Lorne smiled at the men gathering to see him off. “While you jocks were busy in high school running after balls across a field and sweating, I joined the swim team,” he explained as he sat down to take his boots off. The sweat was trickling down his skull and into his eyes and the nearest available cold water was sea water.

The metallic surface of the pier was less hot than he would’ve expected it to be under his bare feet when he stood up and smiled at the sweating soldiers that gathered around him. The marines who had their hair shaved were glistering with large beads of sweat on their scalps and faces, and some of them tried in vain to wipe it off using their soaked shirts. Sheppard, who was standing a few feet away from him on the wide ledge, scratched at his head irritably.

“Besides,” Lorne added when he positioned himself to jump head first, “I don’t know about you, but I’m so hot I’ll probably boil in a few seconds.” With that he jumped, a perfect headspring that took him deep into the cold water.

It hurt, at first. It was too cold to jump into after his body temperature went so high, but by the time he surfaced again and wiped his eyes with his hand, it was great. He turned and started at an easy freestyle towards the floating red ball just far enough away to make him work for it but not strain his already strained muscles.

The ocean was cool and invigorating. The water soaked his clothes and slid between his fingers and through his hair. It was clearer than the water on the original Lantea planet and less salty, with a blue quality of a sea instead of the green of an ocean. When he opened his eyes, he could see well into the darkness of the enormous depths beneath him.

Grabbing the ball, Lorne was back before it was even five minutes. By that time though, their entire little football league had peeled off their socks and was listening to Sheppard and Caldwell.

When Lorne reached the ledge, Sheppard turned to him and smirked.

“Having fun are we, Major?” he drawled, but Lorne wasn’t fooled. Sheppard had the same glint in his eyes that he always had when he had _an idea_. The last time he had that glint in his eyes he climbed four floors up on the outer edge of the control tower and had no problems going down that exact same way.

 “It’s actually very nice inside, sir,” Lorne handed Sheppard the ball and raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Well, you seemed a bit like a mermaid there, so we thought we’d all join you for a quick dive. At least, all of us who can swim,” Sheppard said, crouching. He smirked at Lorne.

Lorne obliged the unspoken request and asked the banal, “So why don’t you just jump in?”

“The Colonel, it seemed, hasn’t quite had enough of playing games today,” Caldwell remarked, amused. “Apparently not even you can make a dent in his stamina,” he added, and Lorne looked up, surprised. Caldwell didn’t even seem aware of the innuendo, but Sheppard did and winked at him when Caldwell turned his back.

“The game goes like this. In their turn, the men will reach out a hand towards the water for you. Their job is to pull you out of the water. Your job is to pull them in,” Sheppard said, and didn’t even try to contain his glee. Lorne frowned.

“One by one?” he asked, suspicious. Sheppard could be a cheat sometimes.

“Strictly speaking, yes. Only one is allowed to touch your hand, but the person who touches your hand can also touch anyone else he likes,” Caldwell explained readily. He hadn’t taken his boots off so Lorne knew he wasn’t going to jump in. He was going to sit by and enjoy this just like he enjoyed their football game. One of his redeeming qualities though was that he genuinely did like seeing his men loosen up and having fun.

“Wow, that’s just so fair,” Lorne muttered sarcastically. He thought it over. He had the advantage because pulling down was easier than pulling up. But they had the bigger numbers. “Okay. But I won’t be swimming in one place waiting for you guys to pull me up. Everyone reach their hands over the pier and I choose where and when to grab someone’s hand,” he argued.

Caldwell smiled. “Agreed.”

The men lined up in a row, bending to reach their hands over the edge of the ledge. Seven of them remained seated a little further back.

Lorne dived.  It was a weird game, but it was interesting. He could see the line from underwater and chose the right edge. They could see him and he could see them, but no one could know when he was about to appear, and with the right leverage he could take them out.

He surfaced at the right end of the row and grabbed Stuart’s hand, so quickly that Stuart was in the water and screaming over the temperature before his friends could even comprehend what had happened to him.

He swam in circles in front of the row, going to the left end of the row and back to the right, twice. When he surfaced next, again at the right end, he grabbed Williams and managed to drag him underwater along with Stackhouse, who was trying to help him.

“Come on! Lorne’s beating the crap out of you and he’s only one man!” Lorne could hear Sheppard gloating at the men. On his next attempt he came from so deep underwater that the center of the row saw him coming only when it was too late. Levine went in.

But when he grabbed Marks’ hand he was nearly pulled out of the water when Miller, Rivers, Hutchinson and Kleinman all grabbed Marks’ clothes and heaved him back. Smirking, Lorne allowed them to pull him up a bit before dropping his full weight on Marks’ hand and causing Marks and the guys around him to stumble into the water in a cluster.

Lorne was now really having fun. The men around him were swimming and diving in the water, jeering at their friends to mend their defenses and cheering whenever there was another splash. Edison did Lorne’s work for him when he actually lost his balance when Lorne touched him, and his frantic flailing brought both him and Dorsey, who tried to help him, down into the water. Toriel and Hansen fouled themselves when Hansen took hold of Lorne’s hand when Lorne was reaching for Toriel, and were both pushed unceremoniously into the water by Caldwell as punishment.

That left only Sheppard.

Lorne surfaced near Sheppard, still not reaching his hand to him. Sheppard was good with surprises. He was smarter than the new marines and more resilient than some of the Atlantis veterans that were already in the water. He was adaptive, and Lorne was running out of techniques.

Except one.

Sheppard crouched, hand still outstretched, and smiled at him. It wasn’t anywhere near the boyish smile he sent Lorne when they were alone, but his enjoyment was clear. “I’m hot, Major,” he teased, and Lorne couldn’t help but grin. Too true, and they both knew it.

Lorne reached his hand and held Sheppard’s, not pulling. Sheppard’s hand moved a little so that their fingers interlaced together and Lorne felt the heat from Sheppard’s palm on his water-cooled skin. The hold was tight, their arms stretched.

Sheppard looked at their joined hands, unreadable for a moment. Caldwell was looking at them expectantly.

“I must say I’m disappointed, Major. I was looking forward to your next stunt,” Sheppard said finally.

“My next stunt is as simple as can be, sir. Please, come in,” he said, earnestly. Sheppard looked at him, surprised for a moment, before a quiet chuckle escaped him. Caldwell, beside him, simply burst out laughing.

“If you can’t beat them, join them?” Caldwell asked.

“No, sir. I know that I stand very little chance after revealing all my tactics to the Colonel, and he is the only one who’s still standing on the deck under the sun. I was hoping he could see the… mutual benefit it would bring if he allowed himself to be pulled in,” Lorne explained.

“Well, you’re right about that. But if I’m going to throw the game I want a rematch,” Sheppard bargained. Caldwell muttered something about stamina under his breath.

“Fastest swimmer?"

“Fastest diver,” Sheppard replied, and Lorne smiled.

“I was a member of the swim team,” he warned.

“Did they make you shave your chest?” Sheppard teased.

“Didn’t have to back then. I’m a late bloomer,” Lorne answered, direct. He suddenly remembered that he and Sheppard were still holding hands and that this conversation, coming from anyone else, would be considered as flirting. It didn’t helped that everyone else was privy to the exchange and so wouldn’t think something weird was going on between the two of them.

“Ready?” Lorne asked, and without waiting for an answer he tugged Sheppard into the water and followed with a lungful of air.

The muffling water in his ears helped him escape the echoes of Sheppard’s teasing voice. He swam deeper and deeper into the water, never doubting for a moment that Sheppard was behind him. The warmth of Sheppard’s skin still haunted his hand even though he was deeper enough underwater that the temperature turned colder.

Lorne swam, his anger at himself for going along with Sheppard’s antics fueling his motions, until something caught his eye and he stopped in his tracks.

Floating in place, he had exactly a second to appreciate the sight in front of him before Sheppard’s hands came around his waist and his body impacted Lorne’s back. Lorne felt some of his carefully conserved air bursting from his lungs at the impact, and spared only a moment to turn and mark the concern and somewhat put out Sheppard with his finger towards the surface before starting to ascend.

Ascending from nearly twenty feet in one fast move was not a good thing for his ears, but his lungs were bursting. Breaking up onto the surface of the ocean, Lorne took in a few gulps of air before his vision stopped being hazy. Sheppard surfaced beside him, a concerned look in his eyes.

“You okay? You simply stopped,” he asked. They were near the pier while the other men were still swimming about further away, but Lorne’s still rapid heartbeat in his ears drowned their voices. Caldwell wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“I’m fine,” he confirmed. “You just knocked some of the air out of me,” he added.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you stopping until I’ve nearly slammed into you. Why did you stop?”

Now Lorne smiled. Even if he technically lost the competition, he was in the company of one of the few men on Atlantis who could really appreciate what he had found. “You want to see something cool?” Lorne asked, looking around him to make sure no one listened. No one did.

“I’m always in favor of cool,” Sheppard said, suspicious. “What kind of cool are we talking about? Because your definitions are something that needs working on,” he added. Lorne shook his head, still smiling.

“Come with me and you’ll see,” Lorne promised. Sheppard nodded. “Take a deep breath,” Lorne said, and they both dived back in.

Sheppard swam next to Lorne, so close that they brushed against each other on occasion. The water became darker when they swam beneath the pier, and when Sheppard hesitated, Lorne touched his shoulder and motioned him forward. It wasn’t far.

A few seconds later they reached a good point. They wouldn’t be able to stay for long, but they could enjoy it in the time they had. Lorne pointed above them and saw that Sheppard squinted for a bit before a huge smile made its way to his face.

Right above them was Atlantis’ star drive pods. They were large and rectangular and set in two deep slots that ran across the length of the pier above them. Every now and again a few red lights would come on for a second, something Lorne guessed was either for warning Jumpers in the water againt collision or to sent feedback to the control tower regarding the pods’ condition.

Sheppard patted his shoulder and smiled, raised his thumbs and then pointed a finger up. Lorne nodded. Their air was beginning to run out and they had to save some for the way back up.

Coming up to the surface, Sheppard grinned at him openly. “That was cool, Major,” he confirmed, out of breath. Lorne smiled and concentrated on regulating his own short breath. Around them the sea was empty, and a look at the ledge showed that all of the men were already wringing the water out of their shirts and sitting in a sunny spot to get dry.

Lorne started making his way to the ledge as well when Sheppard’s voice stopped him. Sheppard swam to him and Lorne noted with amusement that his unruly hair was still sticking up in places, creating strange cowlicks on his head even after being under all that water.

“Listen,” Sheppard began, casting an eye at the curious marines. “Don’t tell anyone about the star drive pods. You’re a pro and I’ve grown with a pool in my back yard, so we can both handle ourselves in water. But I don’t really want to think about what would happen if one of these clowns decides he wants to have a peek as well,” Sheppard explained, and Lorne nodded.

“Of course, sir,” he said, and then registered what Sheppard had said. “You grew up in a house with a pool? Just how rich are you?” he asked before he could think of it better.

A sour expression crossed Sheppard’s face. “It doesn’t really matter,” he said, the tone of his voice closing the conversation on the subject.

When they reached the ledge Stuart helped Lorne out of the water and Lorne turned around and reached his hand for Sheppard. He must’ve pulled harder than necessary, or Sheppard pushed with his legs against the ledge, because Sheppard came out of the water faster than planned and lost his balance, slamming into Lorne and knocking them both down.

Lorne landed with his back against the ledge and Sheppard landed on him, and they both groaned. However the initial pain of the impact was forgotten when Sheppard, in his haste to scramble off of Lorne and to check on him at the same time, dragged his chest across Lorne’s and Lorne could feel his perked nipples through his clinging shirt almost as if they were both naked.

Lorne hissed, willing himself to concentrate on the pain instead of the sensation of Sheppard over him and still scrambling to get away. That was just great. Two years of serving under Sheppard and he hadn’t touched the man as much as he had just today. And it would naturally happen when Lorne was just discovering that Sheppard had a crush on him. The thing was, he couldn’t _not_ react. And if he reacted now then everyone would see because his wet pants were clinging to body and then all hell would break loose. Crap. 

Somebody helped him up, and pain flared across his shoulder-blades. The pain was a good distraction, though he groaned when the movement jostled the hurt area.

Caldwell was by his side in a second. “Everyone alright?”

“I think Major Lorne hit his shoulders pretty bad. He fell right on the seam, and Colonel Sheppard fell right on top of him,” Stuart was saying, and Lorne craned his neck to see a seam in the ledge. It was more like a small tunnel, about three inches wide, probably to drain rain and sea water away. In front of him Sheppard was rubbing his jaw and looking at Lorne, concerned. Again.

Suddenly all Lorne wanted to do was go to his quarters and sleep, somewhere away from Sheppard and away from concerned eyes. This was the one thing he wasn’t allowed to do, of course.

“Can you move your arms, Major?” Caldwell asked, then changed his mind. “Forget that, I’ll look myself,” he then tried to lift Lorne’s wet and clinging shirt up at the back, the men all gathering around him to see. The only person who stayed in front of Lorne was Sheppard, looking guilty and uncomfortable. 

The shirt wouldn’t come up. It was too wet and too sticky with sweat and salt to be lifted away. “Sheppard, give me a hand here. It’ll be easier to push the back up if the front is lifted, but don’t roll it because it will create pressure that can hurt him,” Caldwell instructed.

“Sure,” Sheppard said, voice neutral and eyes downcast, seemingly on his task. His hands slide beneath Lorne’s shirt and pushed the wet fabric up, fingers grazing Lorne’s suddenly over-sensitive skin. It was a caress in anyone’s dictionary. Double and triple crap.

Lorne wanted to faint. As a matter of fact he wanted to tell Sheppard to pull the shirt all the way up, grab Sheppard’s hands and place them all over his skin and then beg Sheppard to fuck him raw. But thinking it would still cause unfortunate results in his lower region so he stuck with feinting, which sounded like a nice way to bring this sorry escapade to an end.

If he thought about the other, not feinting option maybe the others won’t really notice at first – they were all busy clustering around Caldwell and enthusiastically listening to his experiences as a field medic at the beginning of his career – but Sheppard will. Sheppard, whose eyes were still downcast, whose hands had a fine tremor to them where they had no choice but to touch Lorne’s peaked nipples, who was swallowing convulsively.

“I’m sorry,” Sheppard said, voice ragged and low. Lorne wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. He might be sorry for having a crush on Lorne or he might be sorry for crashing into Lorne.

“It’s not exclusively your fault,” he replied, equally low and ragged, and wasn’t sure what he was replying for. It wasn’t Sheppard’s fault that he crashed into Lorne, and it wasn’t really his fault that Lorne was responding to his crush.

Somehow it seemed ludicrous to have almost twenty people clustering and looking at his bare back without anyone noticing the sudden tension that ran almost visible between Sheppard and him.

Caldwell was probing his back, hitting all the sore spots. “You’ll color up prettily, Major,” he announced cheerfully, jolting both him and Sheppard. “I don’t think you have anything serious, but you should have Keller scan you just in case. To the infirmary with you,” he patted Lorne’s arm. Sheppard dropped Lorne’s shirt almost as if he was burned by it, and Lorne turned around quickly.

“Great,” he said. His voice wasn’t still quite back to normal yet, but Caldwell’s tolerant smile and the others’ gentle pats made him think they were ascribing that to his injury. “On we walk, to the infirmary,” he added with no small amount of relief.

“Not walking. It’s useful to have connections with a man who’s in command of a spaceship with beaming technology,” Caldwell said, and reached for his earpiece. “Meyers, can you locate my signal? I’m on the southeast pier with Major Lorne. We need to be beamed to the infirmary,” he said, and a moment later there was a flash of bright white light that left them blinking at a surprised Dr. Keller.

Lorne breathed carefully in. He wouldn’t mind it at all to allow Dr. Keller to prod his aching back and berate him for doing something as stupid as going into the freezing water in the dead middle of an ocean if it meant that he would be in a private section with no visitors for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you football fans - I'm sorry but I don't understand the first thing about it. Wikipedia helped a lot, though.


	3. Chapter 3

Lorne sat in their office, alone. Sheppard was eating a late lunch with Ronon while Lorne had had an early meal with Stackhouse, and was now finishing the things he started before it. It wasn’t all that rare anymore. Sheppard never noticed it. By this time, Lorne was sure that Sheppard didn’t remember what happened in the Jumper, and Lorne managed to convince him that what happened after the game was nothing more than an unfortunate accident.

Lorne worked very hard to maintain the professional relationship he had with Sheppard. He would accompany Sheppard to McKay’s lab, supposedly to see Zelenka, and they would both work from remote terminals while the scientists would buzz around them and occasionally haul them off to touch all sorts of things. He invited Sheppard to his quarters along with Zelenka, McKay, Teyla, Ronon, Keller, Dorsey and Stackhouse for a movie night. He even suggested that they take the periodic personnel review, something that required both their attention, to Carter to see if she had any further insight into team management or promotion issues.

He was rarely alone with Sheppard and when he was he turned the music on and immersed himself in his work. When he had to talk to Sheppard, he was always cheerful and polite. He was determined not to throw away their good working relationship and friendship.

It was hard, especially since memories of Sheppard’s touch, his breath across Lorne’s skin, his very smell tortured Lorne at night until he gave up and touched himself in the secrecy of his narrow bed. It was also hard because he lived in the same corridor as Sheppard. It was a coincidence that he chose that corridor to push his single bag into after he was beemed down from the Daedalus while the confusion of absorbing a big mass of new people still ruled Atlantis. It was hard because he never knew if he would run into Sheppard whenever he left the room.

Now he sat in the office and reviewed the results of the scientists’ latest round at the shooting range, enjoying the warm afternoon breeze through the windows and the solitude. The Beatles were playing something calm that suited the lazy atmosphere when Sheppard walked into the room.

Lorne was about to throw a casual greeting at him when he realized that something was wrong. He got up as Sheppard turned off the music. “Is everything alright, sir?” he asked. Usually when something wasn’t right the entire city would know. Usually it involved a lot of screaming, aliens shooting at them from the sky and Earth’s own firepower echoing in the hallways.

Sheppard smiled without humor. “Sam just informed me that my father suffered a heart attack. He’s dead,” he said, heavily. Lorne’s gut lurched.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, unsure of what to do. He got up and leaned against the side of his table, feeling suddenly clumsy and not knowing what to do with his body.

“So was I,” Sheppard said. He moved to lean against the table beside Lorne. Lorne looked at him and saw an unusual stiffness in his shoulders. Sheppard slouched, not stood this stiff. He wasn’t pale or bright-eyed, but he looked subdued and distant.

“Are you okay?” Lorne asked, not sure it was his place to initiate such a conversation.

“Funny how people keep asking me that.”

“People?”

“Rodney. Sam.”

“It’s natural. It’s also natural not to be okay. I know I wouldn’t be if it was me,” Lorne said candidly, but he could see that Sheppard was uncomfortable with it so he immediately asked instead, “When are you leaving?”

“In a few hours. I need to fill you in on a few things first.”

Lorne placed his hand on Sheppard’s, resting between them on the table, and squeezed briefly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle,” he said, smiling slightly.

“You sure?” Sheppard sounded skeptic.

“It’s a big city. I’m sure I can find someone whose suicidal tendencies match your own,” Lorne said dryly, and Sheppard grinned weakly.

After a few moments of sitting in a surprisingly comfortable silence, Sheppard left.

 

####

 

Sheppard was gone for eight weeks, and in that time Lorne filled in for him. He was strangely upset not to see Sheppard in the halls, at the office or even sending him a look from across the mess. He missed it, in a sick kind of way, and dreamt almost every night about Sheppard while he got himself off. Sheppard wasn’t the first commander Lorne had that he had fantasized about, but he was someone who Lorne didn’t want to get involved with. He found it shameful, but couldn’t really stop.

He was lucky that work kept piling, even though Carter reassigned some of Sheppard’s duties to herself temporarily (she now did all personnel files review alone, for one). Mission roster, scientists’ improvement round at the shooting range, flight lessons for the new marines, Jumpers’ maintenance reports, armory reports, attending to the special requests of the military personnel, compiling reports for Earth and more took up most of Lorne’s time when he was not off-world.

It was enough to keep him occupied, but not enough to keep him from missing the little coffee breaks he and Sheppard used to take, Sheppard cheating with the music, kicking each other under the table, sharing a sandwich, arguing whose turn it was to refill their coffee pot or one of other numerous things he hadn’t even realized they did when they were together.

Mission roster was the hardest. Lorne was good at cross referencing, but there were so many factors to take into account that it went slowly. He got up at the crack of dawn, 0830 AST, showered and went for a run and then sat down to finish that particular obstacle. Intelligence reports, sources, contacts, type of population, the assumed level of technology, terrain and so on were all things he had to consider when choosing which team went to which planet.

The time passed by fast. He put on some nice songs, Zelenka came by and dragged a promise out of him to meet up for lunch and Carter dropped by to discuss some of the low-ranking officers with him.

He was humming along with _The Man Come Around_, immersed in his work, when hands came to rest on his shoulders and startled him. “Missed me?”

Lorne tensed, an instinctive reaction, but when he heard Sheppard’s voice he relaxed and turned around. Lifting an eyebrow, he asked nonchalantly, “Were you gone, sir?”

Sheppard smiled. He looked better, though Lorne noticed a few healing bruises on his face and his brow crinkled. “Long story. I’ll tell you all about it after I’ve had a chance to debrief Sam,” Sheppard said in response to his wondering gaze.

“You’ll have to wait. She has a meeting with the council members of M4X-972,” Lorne said, smiling now that Sheppard was back.

Sheppard rolled his chair away from his desk and took something out from a backpack he had brought with him. “Good. Then I have time to give you your present,” he said, smug.

Lorne was curious. It was a well known custom that whenever someone went back to Earth they would bring back presents and necessities for their friends and tons of chocolate for the control room. The last time Lorne was on Earth he bought Sheppard Johnny Cash’s _America V_ album. Sheppard was ecstatic.

Sheppard presented him with a rectangular shape wrapped in blue, and Lorne lifted an eyebrow, amused. “The lady at the register insisted on wrapping it,” Sheppard said, uncomfortable.

“It’s good to have you back, sir,” Lorne said, and the words were heartfelt.

“What happened to that similar suicidal tendencies guy you were talking about?” Sheppard asked, but he looked smug at Lorne’s words and preened in his seat.

“He didn’t cheat with the playlist,” Lorne replied, and Sheppard grinned.

“Aw, see? Now you have me blushing. Just open your damn present already,” Sheppard nudged him with his foot, and Lorne returned the gesture before opening his present. They used to bother each other with their feet all the time, especially when Sheppard was bored.

Sheppard brought him his favorite aftershave. Sheppard had been with him off-world enough times to see his shaving kit and met him in the hall in the morning after he shaved enough times to know what his favorite aftershave was, but Lorne never expected him to remember it. It wasn’t even a special brand, simply something that had a nice clean smell and felt refreshing on the skin.

“Thank you! How did you-“

“You mentioned that you ran out, and I was at the duty free as it was so I figured you’d be happy with it,” Sheppard shrugged, once again uncomfortable.

It occurred to Lorne that maybe Sheppard liked that smell as well. He smiled broadly. “Thank you, sir,” he said again, putting the green bottle aside. He wouldn’t ask how Sheppard’s trip was. He figured that if Sheppard wanted to tell him something he would, in his own time.

“So, what did I miss?” Sheppard asked, rolling his chair closer to his work station. He opened his mail and grimaced. Lorne felt pity for him. Eight weeks were a hell of a lot of mails to go through.

He was just opening his mouth to answer Sheppard when the door chimed.

“Yes?” they both called out, and the door opened to reveal Zelenka. He looked at Sheppard and his face lit up.

“Colonel, welcome back! Rodney told me you were back from Earth,” Zelenka greeted. “Your presence was sorely missed, especially in the labs. Rodney was…” he faltered and searched for the right words. Lorne already knew all about it because Zelenka always came to him to complain.

“Worried sick?” Sheppard offered, smirking.

“Actually ‘obnoxious’ was the word I was looking for,” Zelenka corrected, and clapped his hands once energetically. “Do you want to join us for a late lunch? I already had Major Lorne promise to join me,” he announced.

“Sure. I can’t wait to find out what new alien food we’re serving now,” Sheppard said, readily jumping from his seat and urging Lorne to come too with a wave of his hand.

When they reached the mess hall the rush hour was already over and the good tables on the balcony were once again available. Teyla was already sitting there, as were Dr. Keller, McKay, Ronon and Chuck. The three of them grabbed a tray and joined them, Lorne sitting between Chuck and Zelenka. He didn’t usually eat with Sheppard’s team and when he did they usually had a big meal with a few other people.

“Colonel Sheppard, the chocolates were great!” Chuck greeted cheerfully, digging into his mashed potatoes and Vigan vegetables with his usual enthusiasm. McKay’s eyes widen in alarm.

“You brought the control room chocolates and you didn’t save one for me?” he accused angrily. Sheppard smirked at him.

“They were even filled with this delicious hazelnut cream…” Chuck sounded dreamy.

“What!?” McKay looked at Chuck like he would strangle him.

“Relax, Rodney. I brought everyone here a piece,” Sheppard said exasperatedly and took out a handful of nicely wrapped chocolates from his pocket.

“I knew you wouldn’t forget me,” McKay exclaimed happily, and with exaggerated care put one of the offered candies on his tray.

“Of course you did,” Ronon muttered to his left, and earned a glare from McKay on his way to hand Teyla a piece as well.

“Thank you, but I do not desire one at the moment. I have received a big jar of a chocolate called Nutella, and I find it delicious,” Teyla said, and just to make a point took out what seemed like a bucket of Nutella chocolate and gracefully dipped her knife into it.

McKay’s eyes went wide, and the air around him became reverent. Lorne was tempted to laugh. Teyla reached her hand for a jar of olives and took it, and McKay nearly jumped from his seat.

“You’re not going to put that in, are you?” he asked anxiously, almost as if Teyla was about to kill a kitten.

Teyla’s brow crinkled. “Why would I do that? I am merely passing it on to Jennifer, who requested it from me,” she said, voice slow and deliberate the way she always sounded when she did not understand something and suspected she doesn’t even want to.

“Oh, good,” McKay said, sitting down. Teyla then proceeded to spread the chocolate on a salted cracker, much to his horror.

Zelenka finally burst. “Come on, Rodney. You know how pregnant women are. When my sister was pregnant she used to eat hot corn with sugar,” he said, wiping at the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, no. That’s just disgusting. I once worked with a Russian who actually liked it. And he wasn’t even pregnant, he was a _geologist_,” McKay bit into his sandwich. “I mean, who would want to make a career out of studying _rocks_?” he asked vehemently around a mouthful of food.

Lorne cough. “I did,” he said. McKay looked at him, shocked. As has the others. “I’m a mining engineer,” he clarified, amused. 

“Really?” Dr. Keller said, amazed.

“My point exactly. Are you a mining engineer now? No. You’re an Air Force Major,” McKay said. Zelenka and Sheppard were both going to say something, but Lorne beat them to it.

“Tell me, McKay. How many times was your life saved by an X-302?” Lorne asked pleasantly.

McKay looked annoyed. “What? Oh, I don’t know. Several?” he asked.

“Good. Most of them probably carried my former team’s seal of approval on their side,” Lorne said, which shut McKay up for the time being.

“Wow. I mean, a pilot, a mining engineer and a painter. You’re a talented man, Major,” Dr. Keller said, impressed.

“And he can probably make a mean soufflé,” Chuck teased, while both Sheppard’s and McKay’s eyebrows rose up with surprise. Lorne chuckled.

“No, I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But I can give you one hell of a foot massage,” he said, and most of the people around the table suddenly sat up straight.

“Really?” Chuck asked, interested. “Where did you learned to do that?”

“My dad was a physiotherapist, and he also knew how to give a massage. He taught me,” Lorne revealed.

“So your mother was an art teacher, your dad was a physiotherapist and you’re an… Air Force Major? How did you manage that?” Dr. Keller sounded incredulous.

“I’ve always liked the sky. Always dreamt about flying. So I joined the Air Force Aca-” Lorne began.

“Yes, yes, this is all nice and good and very boring. I’m more interesting in what I can do to get you to _give me_ a foot massage. I mean seriously, I’m on my feet practically around the clock,” McKay interrupted, looking eager.

Lorne smiled, feeling a bit mean. But he had to set his foot down before he’ll find a line outside of his office. “I’m sorry, Doc, I’m expensive. I don’t think you have something of equal value to offer at the moment,” he said, amused.

“We could build you a mini-drones gun,” Zelenka offered in a tempting voice.

“Hey! How come I never get offers like this?” Sheppard asked, indignant.

“Oh please. You can’t even give a foot massage to a fish, Colonel,” McKay leered, and Sheppard glared at him.

“I’m sorry. The only two who are entitled to receive a foot massage are Dr. Keller and Teyla,” Lorne intervened pleasantly, just barely holding onto his laughter.

“What!? Why them and not us!?” McKay demanded, while Dr. Keller smiled excitedly and raised a triumphant hand. Teyla looked confused as to what she has just won.

“Teyla because she’s pregnant and Dr. Keller because she’s saved my life more than a few times,” Lorne explained.

“_We_ saved your life more than a few times. We even did so a month ago, doesn’t that count?”

Lorne was thoroughly enjoying this. Arguing with McKay was always fun. “Strictly speaking, your team still owes my team one,” he said, and McKay looked crestfallen.

“Wait a mi… Who’s counting!?” he asked, incredulous. Lorne shrugged.

“He does,” he said and pointed at Ronon, at the exact same time as Ronon said, “I am.”

Sheppard looked at Ronon sharply. “It’s not a competition, Chewie,” he berated, and Ronon shrugged. “And besides, what about me? I just brought you your favorite aftershave,” he turned to Lorne. Lorne could see how amused he was by the entire exchange.

“Okay. You too, but only because I never thought you’d remember which brand I use,” he said easily, caught up in the exchange, and McKay looked like someone who was just told that Christmas is cancelled. Zelenka chuckled somewhere beside him.

“I don’t understand any of it,” Ronon complained. “Mining engineering, foot massage… your world is strange.”

“Want me to give you one too?” Lorne suggested.

“Whadidtchu-“ McKay spluttered, glaring at Ronon. Ronon looked back at him passively before turning to Lorne once again.

“Think I’ll pass,” he said.

“Good,” Dr. Keller cried, and shooed Zelenka from his chair with a friendly wave of a hand. “I’m definitely not going to skip this up. And you can even start now, I’m free!” she added cheerfully, setting her legs in Lorne’s lap.

“You know, I’m beginning to think that knowing how to give a foot massage can be an advantage in certain areas,” Chuck said, eyeing the eager Dr. Keller who was just having her shoes removed by Lorne.

“No shit, Sherlock,” McKay muttered resentfully. Sheppard and Teyla burst out laughing.

 

####

 

Lorne didn’t give Sheppard that foot massage he had promised him. Not that day. He gave Dr. Keller one and had her moaning with such abandon that some of the scientists thought someone was watching porn, or so Zelenka told him later. Teyla was next, eager to see what had Dr. Keller so excited, and was groaning appreciatively when Lorne massaged her sore feet while Dr. Keller sat boneless and sated beside her and made incoherent sounds.

By the time he was finished with Teyla, Carterwas finished with her meeting and came to check on Sheppard and Lorne went back to his office and finally finished the damn mission roster, only to change it once more. Major Nelson, who was supposed to head off-world with his team to check on Eldred’s people and see how they were handling their newfound freedom, got electrocuted by one of the Ancient gadgets. It turned out that the gadget was designed to subdue Wraith, and Nelson assured Lorne that he did indeed felt very much subdued and had to be taken off the mission.

Sheppard volunteered his team, minus Teyla. It was a simple mission, he said. Bouncing back to normal after meeting the Replicators yet again (something Lorne still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around), and the people there liked Ronon very much.

Sheppard returned three hours early dirty, leaning heavily on Ronon and McKay and bleeding from a nasty gash that ran from his left shoulder to his collarbone. Lorne was just passing through Carter’s office to pick up those personnel files he had left with her when the gate was activated and Sheppard limped in.

Carter hurried down, Lorne hot on her tail. “What happened?” she asked, concerned.

“Medical team to the gate room stat!” Lorne ordered into his earpiece.

“Catacomb collapsed,” Sheppard groaned. McKay at his side seemed a bit red from the effort of supporting Sheppard so Lorne took over him, trying his best not to jostle Sheppard’s hurt area. McKay gave him a thankful nod.

“Mara said that they felt unusual vibrations from the section of the city that was buried underground so we went to check what caused it. The Colonel stepped on some part that was structurally weak and it collapsed under his feet. Took us an hour to get him out,” McKay said, still panting for breath.

“Why didn’t you dial Atlantis for backup?” Carter demanded angrily. Sheppard was beginning to wobble, and both Lorne’s and Ronon’s arms shot up to stabilize him.

“Oh, you know. There was all this blood, and he was cursing and shouting commands, and Eldred said that they had some people trained in rescuing stranded kids and…” McKay faltered under Carter’s unwavering gaze. “No, no, we should’ve contacted Atlantis, you’re right,” he amended, castigated.

“No, it was my fault. I ordered them to get me out and not wait for the…” Sheppard began, but just that moment the medical team arrived and was loading him on the gurney. “Oh god! That _hurt_!” he said through clenched teeth as the movement caused his wound to open and ooze fresh blood, and Lorne winced in sympathy.

“So much for bouncing back nicely,” Sheppard muttered, breathing harshly through his nose in an attempt to ease the pain. The medical team wheeled him off to the infirmary without waiting for further instructions.

 

####

 

At approximately 2500 the following day Lorne finally picked up the courage to go visit Sheppard in the infirmary. It wasn’t all that late, not considering that New Lantea had 28 hours to its day as opposed to the original Lantea that had only 27. Everyone already got used to it by now, which was exactly why he chose that time to visit Sheppard. People would still be around, still be awake and doing their respective jobs or researches. What’s more, the infirmary was a very public place. Its doors were always open to other people and people always dropped by.

He figured that it would be the perfect place to give Sheppard that foot massage he had so foolishly promised him. He knew that Sheppard wouldn’t forget about it and he thought that doing it in a public place would help their restraint more than being in Lorne’s or Sheppard’s quarters. He also hoped that his anger at himself for landing in this kind of situation in the first place would help him keep his head on the task at hand. 

And they would need it. Sheppard was about to receive a foot massage, an experience that left most people feeling like they had an orgasm if done right, and he was going to receive it from the person he had a crush on. And Lorne…

Lorne thought that feet were erotic. Maybe he had a kind of kinky fetish, maybe other people felt that too, but he found people’s feet erotic. And touching Sheppard’s feet was bound to get a physical response out of him as well. Especially since the entire night before Lorne was tortured by the anticipation of hearing the sounds Sheppard would make, deep and strong from low in his throat, and he couldn’t force his mind away.

Lorne approached the infirmary from the control tower transporter. He spotted Sheppard’s bed surrounded by the privacy curtain and his courage nearly failed. He would honestly rather infiltrate a Wraith Hive ship than doing this, but he may never get another opportunity as safe as this.

Peaking around the privacy curtain, Lorne saw Sheppard lying on his bed and looking at the other edge of the screen with strange intensity. His shoulder was bandaged with white gauze strips held in place with white plaster.

Lorne moved the portable privacy screen a few inches so that he could pass without brushing against the medical equipment lining the walls, and startled Sheppard out of whatever it was he was doing. But when Sheppard saw who it was he smiled and put a finger to his lips just when Lorne was about to apologize. He motioned Lorne closer and made the military signal that meant ‘duck’, patting the edge of his bed.

Wondering but obedient, Lorne sat on the edge of the bed. Sheppard made another military signal, ‘I hear’, and pointed at the edge of the curtain he was studying before Lorne interrupted him, whispering, “They’ve been at it for some time now, but they just got to the good part.”

Lorne concentrated, and could make out quiet voices. There were three of them, three unfamiliar nurses probably.

“…at least as smart as McKay, and not as obnoxious or hysteric as him. He knows almost all there is to know about Ancient technology and he treats women with such high respect!” one nurse said.

“I agree and besides, I like that fuzzy hair of his, and his Czech accent is kind of cute,” someone else was saying. They were talking about Zelenka, Lorne realized, and lifted his eyebrow questioningly at Sheppard. Sheppard merely smirked at him.

“Okay. Best person to get stuck with in a stranded Jumper,” a third nurse said.

“Colonel Sheppard, of course. He can fly these things like they’re an extension of his arm, and he has the strongest ATA gene around. Or Major Lorne. He looked like a natural the second he got one in the sky.”

“But they can’t fix them,” another one argued.

“McKay can. And he has the gene.”

“And he panics, and he snaps, and he’ll treat you badly. At least Sheppard or Lorne will cuddle you if you’re scared.” Lorne looked at Sheppard, confused. Who was it that he or Sheppard were supposed to cuddle on a stranded Jumper? Sheppard simply grinned.

“Fine. Best person to get stuck with at all, then.”

“No, you have to define it. Like, best person to get stuck with on a Wraith ship with no means of escape is Ronon.”

“Yeah. And best person to be stuck with on a planet without a gate is Sheppard.”

“I still think that the best person to be stuck with when around any kind of Ancient technology is McKay.”

“What about Carter?”

“She’s cool. By McKay has the advantage of experience so I’d still choose him.”

“Yes. We got that alright,” the other two giggled. Lorne looked at Sheppard, disbelieving. They’ve been at it for some time now, he said? Just how much can you possibly gossip?

“Okay. Here’s a different one. _Nicest_ person to get stranded with on a deserted planet?”

“Lorne,” the other two chorused immediately, and Sheppard gave Lorne’s hip a nudge with his foot and wriggled his eyebrows. Lorne nearly burst out laughing. So he was the nicest? Interesting.

“Yes, definitely Lorne. He’s always so caring and nice, and he’s got tons of interesting stories from when he was at the SGC.”

“Fine. That’s agreed. Most resourceful man?”

“Ronon,” one of them replied, and the others made a surprised sound at her. “Well, think about it. He had to be resourceful to survive seven years as a Runner, didn’t he?”

“Sure, okay. I can see that. But still, I’ve had more successful conversations with my begonia.”

“Yeah. Though Teyla is as resourceful as him, I believe.”

“So Ronon’s the most resourceful. How about… the person you wouldn’t want to get stuck with, under no circumstances?”

“McKay.” Said the nurse who had something against McKay promptly. Sheppard gave the curtain a disdainful glare, and Lorne smiled. Despite outwards appearance, he was close friends with McKay.

“Stop that. He’s not that bad. I can think of people much worse.” So could Lorne, for that matter. He knew McKay by now, and he knew the man was very capable under duress.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Kavanagh.”

“Okay. I can’t really argue with that,” one of the others made a disgusted sound. “I still can’t believe that he actually…” apparently there was some hand waving going on at the other side on the curtain because a few seconds later the other two cried in disgust.

“Oh, I did not want to know that! On we move! Here’s the icing on the cake. You’re stranded on a planet and no one in Atlantis knows where you are. You’re going to spend the rest of your life there. Who would you prefer to be stuck with, and why?”

“Come on, you mean whose babies I would like to have.” Lorne was interested, despite himself.

“Fine. Whose would you like to have?”

“Don’t laugh, but I think Colonel Steven Caldwell is nice and a good person. I wouldn’t mind having his children,” said the nurse who liked McKay. Lorne and Sheppard shared a stunned look. Out of all the people in Atlantis the nurse could fall for she chose Caldwell?

“If we’re allowed anyone from the Stargate program then I’d choose Colonel Cameron Mitchell.”

“Totally understandable.” The first nurse agreed vehemently.

“Not fair. I don’t even know him! If I’d have to choose I think I would choose Colonel Sheppard. Now _he’s_ sexy,” the last nurse said defiantly. Sheppard’s eyes lit up and he smiled smugly at Lorne.

“Sheppard? God no. He’s sleeping with McKay, everyone knows that.” Lorne, who still looked at Sheppard’s smug gaze, froze. As did Sheppard.

“What? Of course he isn’t. Come on, he’s military. They kick people out for things like that!”

“And who’s going to kick him out? He’s the ranking military officer in Atlantis, Carter notwithstanding, and we’re in another galaxy. It’s not like he has some petty general picking at his every move. Besides, he and McKay are together all the time and it’s not like McKay is such a wonderful person to be around. What other reason could there be for it?”

“He’s not gay, and neither is McKay!”

“Because you have the hots for McKay?”

“Because McKay was going to propose to Katie Brown before he broke up with her, he even showed her the ring. And Sheppard practically patented dating Ancient woman,” the one who liked McKay said angrily.

“I still think that he’s seeing McKay and just so you know, everyone else thinks the same.”

“Think the same about what?” Lorne could recognize Dr. Biro’s voice everywhere. She apparently just started the night shift. He thanked god that she didn’t hear the conversation because sometimes she had a problem with putting a stop to her mouth.

“Nothing, Dr. Biro,” said the nurse who liked McKay with anger in her voice still. “Here, let me show you the results of the test we ran on…” the voices faded, and according to the sound of footsteps moving away the conversation just broke.

Lorne and Sheppard remained uncomfortably frozen and quiet. Lorne could see that Sheppard was both angry and embarrassed, his hands twisting with savage force in his blankets.

Lorne didn’t know what to say. He thought that the best way to deal with it was to carry on like it never happened. He hoped that by doing that Sheppard would understand that Lorne knew better than to believe such silly gossip.

“Remember that foo-“ he began, but Sheppard’s hand shot to his arm and squeezed hard. His eyes were hard and his mouth was set in an angry line.

“That’s not true,” he said, voice tight.

Lorne knew. Of course Lorne knew. He knew who Sheppard ‘had the hots for’ and he knew McKay and knew that he was a good friend to Sheppard, but that was as far as it went. “I know,” he said, quietly.

“Do you? Because ‘everyone else’ seems to think that we are,” Sheppard quoted bitterly. He sat straighter in his bed and looked as though the only thing that kept him from getting up, going after those nurses and doing god knows what was the IV hooked to his arm.

Lorne took a deep breath. “Look, sir. I don’t care about things like that. Maybe I shouldn’t admit that to you, but I just don’t. You’re welcome to do anything you like with anyone you like,” he said, and raised his hand when Sheppard opened his mouth to argue. “That said, I know that you and McKay are not sleeping together. Believe me that I do. I know that McKay’s not like that and you…” Lorne hesitated, but he was a good liar. “You were married. What other proof can anyone ask for?” he concluded.  

For a moment, Sheppard seemed like he was going to say something. He looked at Lorne with unreadable eyes and his mouth opened slightly as if speech would burst from him at any second. Lorne wondered what he was going to say, and prayed that he wouldn’t say it. He feared that Sheppard was going to say something about his alleged straightness, and he thought that none of them could deal with it at the moment.

Finally Sheppard bowed his head and released his hold on Lorne’s arm. “That’s good to hear, I suppose,” he said dejectedly. Lorne knew that he put Sheppard in a tight spot, forcing him to admit to being heterosexual in front of his male crush, but he had no choice. They were threading dangerous ground even as it was.

Lorne cleared his throat self-consciously. “I actually came here to give you that promised foot massage,” he said, scrunching up every last bit of cheerfulness he could manage. Given recent developments maybe a foot massage wouldn’t be such a disastrous idea.

Sheppard perked up. “Really?” he asked, interested.

“Sure. You’re going to get a foot massage from the guy who was just pronounced unanimously as the nicest guy in Atlantis,” Lorne smiled, sliding to sit at the foot of the bed.

“Seems like a leitmotif with you, Major,” Sheppard teased and Lorne chuckled, remembering that miserable mission report.

“You want your foot massage or not?” he threatened in jest. Sheppard wriggled his toes at him from under the blanket.

“Can’t pass that out after what you did to Dr. Keller. You know, if this was Earth you would have been arrested for inappropriate actions in public,” Sheppard replied amiably.

Lorne snorted. Inappropriate? What happened with Keller should’ve been given an adult-only rating. “You’re in a public place right now,” Lorne pointed out, leaving his own reasons for wanting to perform this while Sheppard was in the infirmary. “As long as you won’t moan too loudly no one will have to know.”

In response, Sheppard kicked him.

Lorne sat at the foot of the bed and uncovered Sheppard’s feet.

Sheppard had large feet, but they were more elongated than wide. His arch was wide and his toes were long, each knuckle represented separately instead of being squished into each other. His nails were more long than broad and the back of his foot was hairless but strewn with tendons. Lorne swallowed.

“Like my foot?” Sheppard teased, not even knowing just how close he was to the truth. Lorne swallowed again, reaching for his pocket for the special oil he had borrowed from Teyla.

“Sure. Can I take a picture?” he joked lamely. He then looked at Sheppard and said, “I’m going to start with a simple, light touch. Just to see where you’re more sensitive, mapping your foot and such,” he said, and his voice refused to go higher than a low resonance.

“I know. I’ve seen you do that with Keller and Teyla,” Sheppard agreed, settling more comfortably in his bed.

Lorne, of course, knew that. The difference was that when he gave Keller and Teyla their massage he wasn’t nearly as aroused as he was now. This was a bad idea, but it was too late to stop now.

Lorne applied some of the oil on his hands and got them thoroughly slick. He then spilled a minimal amount on Sheppard’s foot and smeared in with a light touch. Properly oiled, he could now begin.

He began with skimming his thumbs on the heel of Sheppard’s left foot, where the pad was soft and pliant under his touch. He was getting the feel of the interior muscles and delicate bones, checking where the nerves were most responsive and where they were over-sensitive. Sheppard made a content sound and closed his eyes, and Lorne continued.

His fingers gently felt the bridge of Sheppard’s foot, his touch light but sure, and Sheppard gasped. Then Lorne’s fingers moved on to the flat edge of Sheppard’s bridge, caressing until his fingers reached Sheppard’s front pads and the underside of his toes. Sheppard actually moaned when Lorne’s finger traveled up the underside of the biggest toe, and shifted in his place.

Lorne forced himself to remain calm, despite the fact that most of Sheppard’s foot seemed like an erogenous zone. He slid his index finger into the space between Sheppard’s fingers and moved up to skim the rigid tendons on the back, and Sheppard gave a low groan that made Lorne harden in an instant in his pants. Crap.

Adjusting his position on the bed, Lorne began to prepare the foot by holding the soft heel and pressing the foot down, and then up, stretching it. Then, feeling a bit self-conscious, he slide his hands up along Sheppard's furred legs until the heels of his hands were holding Sheppard's heel, and gently shook the foot to relax it.

Lorne then began to actually massage the foot with longs strokes, his thumbs sliding from the outer side and into the arch in a smooth motion, moving in tiny circles that glided towards Sheppard’s toes. Sheppard, after Lorne’s touch became less teasing on his skin, was quiet and content, adjusting to the touch and watching with interest as Lorne worked.

By the time Lorne moved on to Sheppard’s right foot Sheppard’s head was resting against his pillow and his breathing was shallow. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and Lorne thought that it might just turned to be uneventful now that Sheppard was in control and not surprised by his touch.

After the initial warm-up, Lorne began to massage Sheppard’s right foot. His hands were unaccustomed to the movements, not having preformed them in years before that day, so he decided to change his technique to avoid them seizing.

He hooked the lower pads of his thumb against Sheppard's foot and leaned his weight into it, pressing and slipping down and then distancing his thumbs and pulling back up with his entire hand from root to tip. He did it slowly, again and again, his entire body bobbing up and down.

When he was done with that particular move he looked up and found Sheppard watching him with wide eyes that had gone nearly black. It was the kind of look men would wear when a strip-dancer would settle in their lap, the kind of aroused disbelief that something like that just happened. He swallowed. He had no idea what he had done, but something in that movement must’ve turned Sheppard on, and Lorne couldn’t bring himself to look away. It was moments like this that were dangerous, mainly because they spiked with no warning between the two of them.

Lorne continued moving his fingers, all the while staring into Sheppard’s intense eyes. There was something dangerous about him, like something had loosened, and Lorne was both fascinated and aroused by it.

Deliberately, Lorne moved his thumb up and on the underside of Sheppard’s big toe. He felt like the child who knows he shouldn’t touch a burning match but is still too fascinated with the fire to listen. Lorne knew that Sheppard was more sensitive there, but he wanted to see what would happen.

Sheppard’s eyes fluttered shut and his brow creased in and upwards. When Lorne repeated that movement Sheppard’s breath hitched noisily through his nose, and when Lorne circled the front pads he heard Sheppard moan. It wasn’t loud, it was a breathy kind of moan, one that was private and erotic and got Lorne to look up at Sheppard with curiosity.

Sheppard’s skin was flushed and alive, his brow creased and his lips parted. He was breathing fast and Lorne found that he was matching his own breathing to Sheppard’s as he continued, dropping the pace and increasing the depth of his strokes while using that technique that got Sheppard so unbalanced, using the weight of his body to give him leverage and strength.

Lorne allowed himself to work all the way to Sheppard’s ankle and calf, and Sheppard offered him an easier access by angling his leg. Sheppard’s hands were fisting the thin sheet on the mattress and he was making those soft sounds and breathy moans, quiet and just for Lorne.

Lorne was entranced. It was a thrill milking those reactions out of Sheppard and he enjoyed the way Sheppard’s body writhe and shifted under his fingers. His strokes became long, slow and teasing, pressing the places where muscles and nerves were clustered together. Every stroke was in the sole purpose of drawing out the next sound, the next inordinacy in Sheppard’s breath. Every time Sheppard shifted on the bed or made a muffled sound at the back of his throat Lorne's blood ran faster, his cock became fuller and harder and in his belly the sensations coiled with more intensity. Lorne’s clothes were now clumsy against his skin from perspiration, and the blankets covering Sheppard had long since been thrown on the floor, his flushed skin shining with a fine sheen of sweat.

Lorne reached Sheppard’s arch and began a slow, languid pressure up and down, just between the delicate bones that defined it, using his body. He altered between teasing caresses from a single finger and a deeper, massaging touch. With each gentle caress Sheppard’s body gave a tiny jerk and his whimpers became more urgent, until Lorne ceased all activity. After allowing Sheppard some rest he touched a single finger to the arch, tracking its surface, and Sheppard lost control, crying out in a voice that was strangled and ragged.

“Oh, God! Ev-“ Sheppard broke off and bit his lower lip hard.

Lorne wasn’t a fool. His name wasn’t that long, he could recognize the first two syllables of it. And hearing it coming unbidden from Sheppard’s mouth in that deep voice made the coiling sensations in Lorne’s belly migrate south and he could feel the heady beginning of an orgasm.

Lorne bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that the coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth, and forced himself to think of Wraith and death. He hated himself for it, but it served its purpose and his head cleared somewhat from the cobwebs of erotica. Suddenly the infirmary lights overhead were too bright, the room was too hot and Lorne's position on the bed was too awkward to be comfortable.

“You okay?” he asked Sheppard, voice so low it was barely audible. He didn’t think his throat could produce something more in his current condition. His pants were a large, hot and wet tent and his self-restraint was fried.

“I…” Sheppard’s voice was also a whisper, his eyes were still closed but his tongue darted out to wet his lips frequently.

Lorne was appalled by what he had done, appalled that he had betrayed Sheppard’s trust like that. And yet he was still more aroused than he could ever remember being. He had to put a stop to it.

Lorne scrunched every bit of resolve, reminded himself of everything that he had to lose, and forced some normality into his voice. “Your feet are very sensitive,” he began, voice still soft. Sheppard snorted deliriously. “More so than Teyla’s or Keller’s,” Lorne said, in response.

Sheppard seemed beyond speech at the moment, hands twisted so hard in his sheet that Lorne feared he might tear it apart. He gently began the final relaxation, massaging the entire foot with broad, professional sweeps of his fingers and bending it up and down.

“Some people just can’t take so many sensations at once. You’re not the first,” Lorne added, still quietly. He took an infirmary towel and wiped the oil from both his hands and Sheppard’s feet.

Sheppard seemed to be struggling to regain coherent thought. He took a deep breath through his nose and released it slowly, and then opened his eyes. They were still black with merely a smoky ring of color surrounding them, but they didn’t have that unfocused quality of someone who was gone to pleasure.

“Thank you. That was…” he faltered, and Lorne smiled. He held the towel strategically over his groin and balled his hands to press his nails into the flesh of his palms.

“I know. Rest well, sir,” he said, looking past Sheppard at the edges of the privacy curtain. He then turned around and walked away.

When Lorne rounded the corner he began to run. He slammed into a transporter and frantically pressed the dot that symbolized the exit point nearest to his quarters.

Once he was inside his quarters he slammed his fist on the crystals and leaned against the door, hand already fumbling with the buttons of his pants. He took himself in his hand and that was all it took for him to come, haunted by blackened eyes and throaty groans. He shot hot semen on himself and the floor, gasping at the intensity of his orgasm.

Lorne slid down the door and onto the floor, having no strength to clean the mess he just made. He bent his knees and put his head between them, wondering how it could’ve gotten this far. Why did things go so out of control?

He suspected that he knew why. Seeing Sheppard willing and protective back at the Jumper set free thoughts that he never allowed himself to think or dwell upon. And it felt like goddamn permission to drink after being tied to a pole in the desert for three days. Because Sheppard wanted it and Lorne was always responding to him, wanting it too. He wanted to see how passion looked on Sheppard, and its look was so stunning that Lorne couldn’t bring himself to stop.

There was something heady in the knowledge that it was Lorne who could put such an expression on the face of a man as private and self-controlled as Sheppard, and before he knew it he was drunk.

He never got drunk, on principle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again - to all of you who're a skilled masseurs, I haven't a clue about it. YouTube's clips helped a lot, though. :)


	4. Interlude

When Lorne first met Sheppard, they were still Evan and John.

 

####

 

_The wormhole disengaged behind Lorne and Woeste as they stepped down the ramp, and they gave their weapons to a waiting SF before reporting to the control room and General Landry. _

_The General was already there, standing and looking over Walter’s shoulder at something in the dialing computer. When they approached, he straightened and his eyebrows rose. _

_“Well, gentlemen, how did it go?” he asked._

_“It was fine, sir. I-“ Lorne started, but Woeste cut him off. _

_“Fine? That thing almost killed me and you call that fine!?” he accused, slightly hysteric still. General Landry’s eyebrows went even further up. _

_“Iron Shirt shot my MP5 at Woeste’s general direction, sir,” Lorne explained, and when Landry looked at him with severe eyes, he stated, “I told him to join me behind Iron Shirt. It was obvious his aim would be bad because his finger could barely squeeze into the trigger guard to pull the trigger. But Woeste preferred to run away into the woods.” Lorne looked at his coward partner disapprovingly. _

_“Well, forgive me for not wanting to be around when an Unas is holding a weapon,” Woeste retorted angrily. _

_“Did he disobey an order?” Landry sounded threatening. _

_“No, sir. I never made it an order. Actually, since he came with me only to check on the quality of the mineral I told him that he was free to roam around as long as he’s not disturbing any Unas,” Lorne was quick to pacify Landry. It was the truth, though Lorne regretted not making an order out of his request in retrospect. _

_“Why did you give that Unas your weapon in the first place, Major?” Landry was more curious and amazed than angry. _

_Lorne shrugged. “Iron Shirt was giving me a guided tour to their armory. Dr. Jackson taught me that I should always reply in kind, sir,” he said, which was true. After his failure to notify Dr. Jackson of the artifacts, a failure that had cost Ritter his life, he volunteered to be the liaison between Earth and the Unas community of P3X-403. He had been very well trained by Dr. Jackson since then. _

_“Armory?” Landry asked. _

_“Sticks and stones, mostly. And old Goa’uld technology: Pain sticks, Zats, Staff weapons, manacles, spears…” Landry shook his head. _

_“I don't really want the entire list, Major, I’ll read your report later. Just tell me this: how is the mining operation going on?” he said, impatient. _

_“They’ve found a few deeper veins further into the mountain, sir, and just this week alone they provided us with enough raw material to build one Fighter,” Lorne reported with deep satisfaction. He was starting to grow fond of the Unas. _

_“Good. Now go wash your face, Major, I don’t really want to know why it’s painted blue. Dismissed,” Landry walked back to his office without waiting for Lorne’s acknowledgment, and Woeste hurried to the locker room without even a backwards glace. Lorne frowned after him. It wasn’t as bad as Woeste made it look like. Iron Shirt was very amused with Woeste’s anxiousness and Lorne really had told Woeste to get behind Iron Shirt. Five times. Lorne didn’t have much sympathy for him after that. _

_“That bad, sir?” Walter asked. Lorne looked down at him and smiled. _

_“No. He just got really scared after being surrounded with so many Unas and he has a tendency to overreact. It’ll pass,” Lorne assured him, and then noticed a stranger who was standing in one corner of the control room and watching the exchange with interest. He was dressed in civilian clothes and his hair, despite being short, was sticking up in cowlicks in all directions. _

_Walter followed his gaze. “Oh, right. You didn’t meet when he arrived,” Walter said. “Major, Major,” he added hastily to Lorne and the stranger by way of introduction, and turned back to the computer when the gate began spinning once more and the klaxons kicked into action. _

_Lorne moved forward towards the other Major and stuck out his hand. “Hi. Evan Lorne,” he said. The stranger smiled. _

_“John Sheppard.” The stranger introduced himself, and took Lorne’s hand in a firm grip. _

_“The man from Atlantis, right?” Lorne asked, and then chuckled. “Sorry. It reminded me of a book I used to read when I was growing up,” he explained. _

_“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I don’t have any gills,” John smirked. Lorne nodded his head at him, acknowledging the jest. _

_“Well-“_

_“Say-“_

_They both smiled, in that embarrassed and amused way two people did when starting to speak at the same time. _

_“Please, John,” Lorne said, gesturing with his hand at John. _

_“I was going to ask if you’re headed for the locker room. You know, to…” he motioned at Lorne’s cheeks, where some blue paint-like stuff was slowly drying. _

_“Yeah. Of course, I’m headed there. You’re welcome to come with me,” Lorne said, realizing that John was a little lost. It was easy to get confused in the unmarked and indistinguishable corridors of the underground complex. They both left the control room just when SG-5 started returning through the gate. _

_“What’s an Unas, and why did they paint you blue?” John asked as they made their way down the corridor towards the elevator. Lorne took out his card key and passed it in the elevator’s security slot. _

_“They were the first Gua’uld hosts, but they are not human. They are incredibly powerful humanoid creatures, and their language is a complex combination of throaty sounds. They are intelligent and live in an organized society with a leader and local customs.” Lorne explained, succinct yet thorough. “Which reminds me, do you mind if we make a stop along the way? I have something for Dr. Jackson that I’m sure he would love to receive as soon as possible.”_

_“Sure,” John said, apparently thinking over the information he was just given. Lorne wanted to ask how it was in Atlantis as they stepped into the elevator in silence, but knew that even with the highest security clearance there might still be things he wasn’t meant to know and he didn’t want to put John in an awkward position. _

_“So, why the blue paint?” John asked eventually, after he seemed to have processed Lorne’s words. _

_“I have no idea, yet another mystery for Dr. Jackson,” Lorne replied, smiling at him. _

_“And these Unas guys, they mine the Naquadah for the X-302’s?” John asked again. _

_“Yes. At first we mined the Naquadah ourselves, but we almost started a war with them when it turned out that the mines were a sacred place. So Dr. Jackson and another Unas named Chaka brokered a deal between us and Iron Shirt, who leads the Unas of P3X-403,” Lorne explained. _

_John then surprised him by saying, “You know, that’s actually cool!” _

_Lorne looked at him. Most people at the _   
_SGC _   
_who weren’t Dr. Jackson thought that Unas were quite scary and wanted as little to do with them as possible. Once he got to know them Lorne began to think like Dr. Jackson, but it was nice to have a visitor from another, exotic galaxy saying that Unas were cool. _

_“Yes. Yes they are,” he agreed, smiling. _

_They reached Dr. Jackson’s office. “Hopefully this will only take a moment,” Lorne said, and knocked on the doorframe. Dr. Jackson’s office didn’t have a real door. _

_Dr. Jackson looked up from a tablet he was studying. He took stock of Lorne’s cheeks and smiled broadly. “Major Lorne. I see that you were accepted into the family,” he said enthusiastically. _

_Lorne raised his hand to the paint on his cheeks. “Is that what this paint means? I couldn’t get Iron Shirt to explain it to me properly.”_

_“Yes. When Chaka kidnapped me he killed a Goa’uld symbiote and smeared the color on my face. It’s a sign of protection. Apparently the symbiote’s blood is blue,” Dr. Jackson said excitedly. _

_“Isn’t Chaka the one who helped you broker the deal?” John spoke from behind them. Dr. Jackson seemed surprise that someone else was in the room with them, but nonetheless smiled at the newcomer. _

_“He did, but we got to know him after he kidnapped Dr. Jackson. Dr. Jackson, this is Major John Sheppard from Atlantis,” Lorne made the introduction. Dr. Jackson’s reached his hand to shake John’s own outstretched one. _

_“Yes, we’ve met in _   
_Antarctica_   
_. You must’ve met Mitchell and Sam already, right? I’m sorry I didn’t make it, I’m kind of behind on a lot of projects and I have a Vala-free time until tomorrow to finish them,” Dr. Jackson told them. John merely nodded and smiled back, though Lorne could see that he had no idea who Vala was. It would probably be best if it would stay that way. _

_“Well, while it’s nice to know that I’m protected I think I’m going to take a shower now. I just stopped by to bring you this,” Lorne pulled a few sheets of paper from his vest pocket and handed them to Dr. Jackson, whose eyes lit up. _

_“This is incredible! Major, I-I could hug you!” Dr. Jackson exclaimed, smiling broadly and waving his hands excitedly. _

_“It’s a list of new words in the Unas language,” Lorne explained John, who was watching them both with amusement. _

_“This is amazing. You don’t even know how much, Major Sheppard. We know so little about these creatures that-” _

_“Doc…“ Lorne said, wanting to restrain the excitement so that they could get to the locker room faster, but he tried to do so gently. Everyone, including him, liked Dr. Jackson a lot, and he was well worth putting up with. _

_“Right. You have Wraith and other hellish things to worry about,” Dr. Jackson apologized to John. “Anyway, thank you very much for this list, Major Lorne,” he said to Lorne. _

_“Sure thing. Uh, Doc… do you think you can have a talk with Woeste? He kind of freaked out when we were on the planet, though Iron Shirt took it very nicely. He thought I brought him for amusement purposes, kept saying ‘Ka-Nan’ all the time. But still, Woeste almost got shot, and he kept running to the woods, so…” Lorne asked. _

_“’Ka-Nan’, of course! It means ‘game’! That’s just incredible! Chaka was-” Dr. Jackson seemed to have suddenly remembered that Lorne wanted to get the paint off his face because he restrained himself from giving them a full lecture on his newest revelation. “Um… Yeah. Sure. I’ll catch up with Woeste. You’re right, it’s important since he’ssupposed to accompany you from now on, right?”_

_“Yes. Thanks Doc!”_

_“No problem. Thank you and it was nice meeting you again, Major Sheppard,” Dr. Jackson said absent-mindedly, already immersed in the papers Lorne gave him. _

_From Dr. Jackson’s office they went another two floors up and Lorne led them to the locker room. “There it is. Think you can find it again if you needed to?” Lorne asked. John looked peeved. _

_“It’s not that I can’t find it. It’s that I don’t know where_ I_ am. Everything here is so alike and so gray and so…” he trailed off, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he realized that Lorne spent most of his days on Earth at the __SGC__. _

_“So drab? Just like every other military base situated inside a mountain,” Lorne suggested, taking no offense at all. John nodded. “I take it Atlantis is not like this?” he allowed himself to ask. _

_John’s eyes went round to emphasize the difference. “Oh, no. Nowhere near,” he said passionately. _

_“I wish I could see it,” Lorne said, wistful. By now the rumors of Atlantis made it seem like the culmination of every adventurer’s dreams and desires: to serve in the first space colony Earth has ever established in a galaxy that wasn’t the Milky Way. It was the wondrous city of the gate builders and was rumored to be filled with cool gadgets and new bad guys to fight. Lorne wasn’t different from the average adventurer whenever he heard of it. _

_John smiled at him. “Maybe someday you will, Evan,” he said._

_“Yeah. Maybe.”_

 

 

####

 

_The next time Lorne saw John, it was two weeks after his return from P3X-403. John was dressed in his dress uniforms and was just coming out of General Landry’s office. Lorne himself was just summoned there, though no one told him why._

_“John, how are you?” Lorne smiled warmly, and then froze. Instead of the gold oak leaf that Lorne also had on his uniform’s epaulets, John now had a silver one. He was promoted to a Lieutenant Colonel. _

_“Uh, sorry, sir. When did you…” it was suddenly awkward, John looked extraordinarily smug and Lorne didn't know what to do. At the _   
_SGC _   
_people who knew each other didn’t stand on ceremony or formalities like salutations, but John – no, Sheppard – wasn’t from the_   
_SGC_   
_. _

_“Just now, in Landry’s office,” Sheppard said. Lorne smiled, more sure of himself now. It was custom to salute when congratulating a senior officer right after he got his promotion and it would be his pleasure to._   


_“Then allow me to be the first to congratulate you,” he said, and was beginning to stretch for a smart salute when Sheppard grabbed his hand. _

_“I prefer this as congratulations. Especially from my second-in-command to be,” he smiled and shook Lorne’s hand. And in that warm hold Lorne once again froze with shock and bewilderment. _

_“What?”_

_“That’s why Landry called you in. He wants to offer you the position, if you’ll agree. Now you have a chance to see Atlantis.”_

_Later, after all the fuss was over and Lorne managed to get his head around the idea and had agreed to go to Atlantis, he approached Sheppard. He wasn’t the kind of person to question his good luck but he was the kind of person who appreciated a good working relationship and he needed to know that Sheppard was fine with having him around. He was well liked at the _   
_SGC_   
_, he knew, and he hated the thought of Landry pushing him on Sheppard because of it. _

_Ritter’s death, though never blamed on him, was his fault. He was the one in charge of removing the Unas artifacts. The investigation concluded that it was Edwards’ job to notify the _   
_SGC _   
_and that Lorne was operating under his orders. In reality if he had informed the _   
_SGC _   
_as protocol dictated, Ritter would still be alive. He made his amends by sticking closer to protocol whenever the situation allowed, though being off-world often required a lot of resilience, creativity and quick thinking. _

_Landry was sure to tell Sheppard about his conduct since the incident, but no amount of amends could bring Ritter back and he still believed that Sheppard needed to know as well. _

_“Sir, about the position General Landry offered me. You probably know about Ritter-” he began, but Sheppard held up a hand to stall him. _

_“I do. Your record is clean, so even if I wanted to I have no valid reason to kick you out. As it is, I appreciate men who can learn from their mistakes. In the Pegasus galaxy you don’t have the luxury of repeating the same mistake twice. Sometimes you don’t even have the luxury of making it once. Keep that in mind,” Sheppard said, serious, and left Lorne alone to ponder on that._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: offscreen rape of minor characters.

Lorne was sitting in their office with Sheppard when the circumstances of his becoming Atlantis 2IC returned to him. He had his respect for the regulations and protocols of the military,acknowledging the reasons for setting them in the first place, but he didn’t have blind faith at them. He recognized that some were outdated and that there were situations that the people who wrote them could never have foreseen. The treatment given to gay soldiers, for example: Lorne was a good soldier, but he wasn’t a monk. Others, however, were still valid no matter where in the universe you’d be. Such as, he thought regretfully, the regulations against fraternization.

Sheppard’s foot kicked him lightly under the table, interrupting his musings. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, a trace of genuine concern in his voice. “You haven’t said a word for the past half hour.”

“You’re timing me?”

“Yes.”

“You sure use your foot a lot often these days, how’s that as something to say?” Lorne teased in response. Which was true. Sheppard really did use his feet more. He ran longer, he walked faster and he kicked Lorne under the table nearly all the time to see if he could get him to lose his concentration.

Sheppard smirked, smug. “Well, seeing as I suddenly have all these loose muscles that I never even knew existed, I thought I should make the best out of it before they’ll cramp up again. By that time I fully expect another mind blowing massage, by the way,” just to prove his point, Sheppard kicked him again.

“Bring me a big espresso-based Frappuccino from Starbucks and then we’ll talk,” Lorne deflected him.

He still remembered that foot massage. It haunted him at night right along with other Sheppard-connected incidents that seemed to multiply with an alarming frequency since MT7-233. He gave up fighting it, jerking off instead while recalling the way Sheppard groaned from deep within him under Lorne’s touch and the way his blackened eyes closed in bliss on the bed in the infirmary.

Lorne managed to dissuade whatever suspicions Sheppard might have had by laughing thw whole massage ordeal off with Teyla and Zelenka, retelling them in great detail about Sheppard’s responses. Sheppard took everything in good spirits, laughing right along with them and didn’t even appear to be feeling shameful about it.

But deep down Lorne was beginning to fear that he wouldn’t be able to pull this off. They never had so many sexually charged brushes before Lorne discovered that Sheppard had a crush on him, and he knew that it was his fault. He wanted it and he reacted to Sheppard’s subtle flirting, to his mere proximity, in ways he never had before his discovery and Sheppard probably picked it up subconsciously.

He was starting to feel that nerve-wracking feeling of losing control, and he feared that eventually they would arrive at a point of no return and then the truth would come out. They were getting closer and closer to it with each passing incident, like a charge was building between them and breaking down a bit more forcefully  every passing incident. Lorne had no idea what would happen then, but he could imagine the more likely outcomes. None of them were pretty.

“Colonel Sheppard, Major Lorne, Dr. McKay, report to my office immediately,” Carter’s voice was heard over the radio. Both Sheppard and Lorne rose and headed for the nearest transporter together, wordlessly. Carter liked to walk the city but after her foot was broken on M5V-801 she was forced to rely on the radio as means of communication. She hated it, and Lorne knew that she used it only when it was something important or urgent.

Lorne and Sheppard arrived at the control room just when McKay got there, and they all stared at each other. “You have any idea what’s going on?” McKay asked. Sheppard shrugged and Lorne shook his head. They proceeded together to Carter’s office.

The sight that greeted them was unusual. Dr. Kiang, the pretty scientist who had nearly every man turning his head after her, was crying in Carter’s office while Carter sat awkwardly on the sofa next to her and rubbed her back soothingly, her leg in the cast stretched across the floor.

“Sam?” Sheppard asked, eyebrows raised.

“Dr. Kiang had lost contact with Drs. Esposito and Vogel while on M9G-103. She says that they’re not answering their radios and that they failed to arrive at the pre-scheduled hour for lunch. I want you and Major Lorne to mount a search and rescue. Hutchinson and Toriel were escorting the science team and are still there, continuing the search. They will debrief you further,” Carter explained succinctly. Lorne and Sheppard both nodded. McKay looked troubled and worried.

“No Wraith activity in the area?” Sheppard asked.

Kiang sniffed and shook her head. “No. The villagers said that since the last culling two months ago the Wraith haven’t visited them,” her face crumbled like she was about to cry once more, but she took a bracing breath and calmed herself down somewhat. “They were not at the village. We were working outside of it and no one saw them for some time. We searched for hours, but we found no trace! Oh, god!” Kiang hid her face in her hands and her shoulders shook. McKay looked practically disturbed.

“We’re on it,” Sheppard said. “Rodney, let’s go. Lorne, round your man. And get Ronon for me as well, will you? I’ll meet you at the Jumper bay,” he was already walking up the stairs while Lorne headed down for the mess hall and the gyms.

When he, Miller, Williams, Hansen and Ronon made their way to the Jumper bay it was less than ten minutes after leaving Carter’s office. Sheppard was already loading the search and rescue equipment from the armory and infirmary onto the Jumper, and McKay was stuffing some more instruments into his backpack. They were good to go, and it wasn’t long before they were on the other side of the even horizon.

M9G-103 was a peaceful planet. The population was agrarian and the people made a living from trade and farming. The nearest village was five klicks from the gate, with wide roads that curved in and around mist-covered golden fields that grew something called Tamu, a kind of grain from which bread was made and that could be grown despite the planet’s chilly temperature and long night in comparison to its day. McKay said that light time was only 30% of the planet’s 25-hours-long day this time of the year because of the relative closeness of the stargate to the planet’s poles. It was also why, he explained, the place was so cold.

Hutchinson and Toriel waited for them by the gate, both shaking in their coats and looking grim. Seeing them, Lorne wondered if Esposito and Vogel were equipped with enough hot clothes.

Sheppard landed the Jumper next to the gate and the search and rescue teams went out to meet with the men on the ground. Lorne huddled into his coat and readjusted his vest. It was so cold that their breaths steamed in front of them and Lorne thanked god for woolen socks and fleece.

“Sergeant, Lieutenant, any news?” Sheppard asked after an exchange of nods all around. Lorne sent Miller and Hansen to secure a perimeter in the mean time, until all talks and updating would be over.

By the bright, white and almost fluorescent-like daylight Toriel looked like a ghost. He and Hutchinson were sent to secure Kiang, Esposito and Vogel on their zoological and botanical research mission to M9G-103. From the way they both looked they probably made the trip to and from the village several times by now. Lorne was sure that the cold wasn’t helping them much either, and took out two field hand warmers and handed them to the grateful men.

“We’ve checked every house in the village, sir, but no one saw them and no one was holding them. Also, we’ve managed to round up a few volunteers to help us with the search but so far we’ve come up with nothing except these,” Hutchinson reported, handing Sheppard two metallic objects.

“Their radios,” Lorne said, looking at the slightly dirty equipment in Sheppard’s hand. No one had permission to take off their earpieces unless they were in the city. Senior staff like himself, Sheppard, McKay, Zelenka, Keller, Biro and Carter were not even allowed that and were also required to turn on the standard issue military radio when sleeping. If someone took off their radio they were either incredibly irresponsible or in deep trouble.

“What about the life signs detector?” McKay said suddenly. “Hutchinson, you have the gene. Why didn’t you scan the area with the life signs detector?” he demanded.

Hutchinson sighed. “We did, sir, but this planet is agrarian. They have hunters and gatherers wandering all over the place. After we encountered the third pair of villagers we stopped trying to find them with the detector,” he explained. Sheppard cursed under his breath.

“Okay, life signs detector is out. What else did you do?” Lorne asked.

“The villagers are still looking, and will continue to until nightfall. We joined them on a foot search from the place where we found their equipment scattered around. We also tried calling their radios, until we discovered their earpieces, in the hopes that they still had them when we started the search. And we sent a few flares into the sky so that if they’re lost they can find their way back. We thought that maybe you could do a sweep of the ground with the Jumper but we underestimated how fast the night will fall, sir.”

Even though the sky was still a hurting bright white, the distant and cold sun was already at the edge of the horizon. A moon was already starting to rise, and McKay predicted that a second one will follow later on.

“Okay, let me be the bastard here for a second. Is it possible that they simply slipped away for a quickie and just couldn’t find their way back? The flares idea was good but the sky here is very pale and I don’t recall either of them having an outstanding sense of direction,” Sheppard said.

Esposito and Vogel were engaged. The entire city knew it because Vogel proposed to her while she was manipulated to stand at the control room’s gate-wise balcony where he sang her favorite song to her. They were a cute couple and weddings weren’t common in Atlantis, mainly because of the constant fear for one’s life.

“No. They would never do that,” McKay said, a stubborn tilt to his chin.

“Rodney, I’m just saying-”

“I know what you’re saying. And I’m telling you that despite them both being zoologists they would never do something so profoundly irresponsible, not to mention idiotic.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that McKay was in charge of the entire science division, and not just the exact sciences teams. But Lorne sided with McKay on this.

“I agree, sir. Even if they went for a quickie they wouldn’t leave their things scattered as Hutchinson says they were and wouldn’t take off their radios. Even if they did do that and got lost, they would’ve lit a fire. It’s taught in basic field survival to every scientist who wants to go off-world,” Lorne said. “It just doesn’t match the pattern. Too many things have gone wrong for this to simply be a stupid mistake.”

Sheppard heaved a sigh. “I figured this much. I estimate that we have… what, one more hour of daylight?” he looked at McKay, who nodded solemnly. “Let’s split up and start a foot sweep. I want teams of two. Hutchinson, you take the Jumper and start doing a sweep of the area and a geological survey. Fly low and slow. Lorne, you’re with Hansen. Ronon, you take Miller. Toriel and Williams, you’re securing the gate. Rodney, you’re with me. One hour from now I want everyone here. Regular check-ins with Hutchinson every fifteen minutes,” Sheppard stopped for a moment to look at everyone around.

“I want this to be clear. Right now we’re operating under the assumption that they were hurt by something unfortunate but natural, possibly slipped into a cave or a canyon. We’ve seen it happen before, and if that’s the case we need to get to them before it’s dark and the temperatures will start dropping even more. However, if the geological survey from the Jumper and the land sweep would result in nothing, our assumption is that they’ve been kidnapped by hostile forces with an unknown agenda. Be alert,” he said, serious. 

After that Lorne headed with Hansen north, Sheppard and McKay went south and Ronon took Miller east. Hutchinson took off with the Jumper, and Toriel dialed Atlantis to inform them of the new developments.

 

####

 

Lorne and Hansen covered as much territory as they could, but the light was disappearing abnormally fast and the temperature was dropping like a stone. If at first the temperature was forty-eight, now Lorne’s thermometer showed only forty-one. The only positive thing about the dropping temperature was that the mist was dissipating and the visibility improved.

Under the waning light Lorne could see that the ground was filled with large, smooth rocks that created all sorts of interesting patterns. It was encouraging. Such geology usually created caves and crannies, the mining engineer in him recognized, and it meant that the scientists could have fallen into one and were simply waiting to be rescued.

They fell back to the meeting point, and were the last to arrive. Sheppard cast an annoyed yet relieved look at him when he approached. “Didn’t I say an hour, Major?” he reproved, voice clipped.

Lorne inclined his head. “Sorry, sir,” he responded, although they were only one minute overdue.

“We found nothing. What about you?” Sheppard asked.

“Nothing as well. Fields, rocks, a tree here and there. Mostly hills and irrigated land, sir, as far as we could see. And to tell you the truth, once the fog dissipates we had a clearer line of vision. There aren’t many places north of us that they could hide in. We would’ve seen them,” Lorne reported. Sheppard’s face rearranged into grimmer lines.

“Yeah. We had the same result on our end,” Sheppard said. “Listen. We’ve consulted Carter. We’re now assuming that they were kidnapped by a hostile force, but Kiang said that she was investigating something by the gate and she saw no one dialing out.”

“What about when the search went on?”

“Toriel and Hutchinson took turns guarding the gate in case Esposito and Vogel returned there and said that no one came or went. Which means that whoever kidnapped them is still around, or they have a spaceship. Our orders are to hold a position near the gate until daybreak. I’ve already had McKay disable the DHD. If we’ll need to, we’ll use the Jumper’s DHD but no one leaves the planet until we find our people,” Sheppard explained. Lorne nodded, and they both rejoined the others.

Miller and Hansen were attempting to light a fire, and Hutchinson was landing the Jumper just beside the DHD and cloaking it. They would sleep inside and take turned watching the gate. It was deceptive, allegedly one man sitting alone in front of a fire. They had done so many times by now.

By the time night fell completely, the temperature was already thirty-seven degrees, and McKay was arguing with Sheppard.

“It’s bright. You have not just one, but two – two! – moons to light the way for you!” McKay said angrily.

“I said no, Rodney,” Sheppard replied sternly.

“Come on! We’ve done search and rescue in darker places than that! It’s cold out there, and if they’re stuck in some trouble and can’t get out they’ll freeze to death. The geological survey showed some crannies and caves along the eastern ridge. Do you really want to wait seventeen hours until-“

“Have you been listening, Rodney!? We no longer work under the assumption that they are in trouble! Right now our assumption is that they were taken hostages. By some damn hostile force!”

“I don’t really care what your assumption is, Colonel. They are out there-“

“That’s right. As are the people who kidnapped them. I’m not going to send anyone else to suffer the same fate if I can help it!”

“Okay, yes. There could be evil bogeymen out there whose sole purpose is to kidnap zoologists from Atlantis. Of course. But they could also be in one of those caves!” McKay insisted.

“Okay. I’ll make a deal with you. You said there was a second moon, but I only see one. When that second moon rises we’ll reevaluate the situation.” Sheppard said unhappily. After some more glaring, McKay conceded.

“Fine,” he said, equally unhappy.

Sheppard turned and walked into the Jumper and McKay slumped down next to Lorne, the right corner of his mouth pulling down even more than usual. He looked like he needed some cheering up, which Lorne understood perfectly. Not knowing the fate of his men must be hard on him. Usually it was the military men who got into trouble and needed rescuing. Scientists’ fate was almost always known because, as sad as it may sound, they tended to die very fast and while doing something very useful.

Lorne suddenly remembered the nurse who had something against McKay. She didn’t know the man at all if she could whole-heartedly say the things she did. 

Lorne offered McKay his cup of sweet tea, which McKay glared at. “I don’t have cooties, Doc,” Lorne promised him. “And it doesn’t have citrus in it as well,” he added before McKay could open his mouth.

McKay seemed surprised. “Oh,” he said. “Okay,” he took the cup and sipped cautiously.

“We’ll get to them, Doc. If they’re in any of the caves we’ll find them. One way or another,” it wasn’t a happy promise but it was the only one he could make.

“Yes, I’m sure we will. It’s just that they might be freezing to death as we speak and they don’t have the privilege of two of the smartest scientists in two galaxies and a brilliant M.D. at their side,” McKay said, voice breaking in his anxiety. Lorne smiled.

“Yeah. Two of the smartest people in two galaxies and look at how you eventually got out: by climbing down a rope,” Lorne said, and McKay’s face crumbled in anger.

“What exactly are you trying to say, Major? Do you belittle the attempts we’ve made to save our own lives or do you simply belittle our intelligence?” McKay demanded hotly. Lorne sighed. McKay was a good man, but he was too high-strung and too quick to jump into conclusions.

“No, Rodney. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t need to be a genius to get out of a cave. Sometimes the simplest solutions are the ones that work best. Like climbing down a rope, or keeping warm and waiting to be rescued,” Lorne clarify, and McKay looked surprised. Lorne almost never used his first name. It was a something he saved for times of greater need.

“Oh. Right. Uh… yeah. You’re probably right.” McKay said, and was still pondering silently over Lorne’s words when Sheppard came out of the Jumper.

“Come on. We’re going for the caves,” he informed Lorne.

Lorne looked up. The second moon was just rising, but even low in the sky it still provided additional light. Soon it would be more noticeable.

McKay got up eagerly. “We are?”

“No. _We_ are. We as in Lorne, Ronon and me. The rest of you set up the watches and secure the gate. If something happens contact us immediately. If we’re not back in an hour contact Atlantis and let them know that we’ve probably been captured. We’ll stay in radio contact,” Sheppard addressed the rest of the men while Lorne went into the Jumper and split the equipment load with Ronon.

They set off in the direction of the ridge that Hutchinson said he saw while performing the geological survey. The clear roads between the fields helped, and the silence was peaceful. A sort of alien cricket made a sound like a broken accordion.

Lorne took their six, looking at the peaceful fields around him. After a very long walk they could still see the fire and the gate in the distance. If Esposito and Vogel were moving freely about, they would’ve seen it by now. The landscape was mostly boring, with shallow hills to the north and a plain to the east.

“Think we’ll really find them?” Ronon asked casually. He was walking between Lorne and Sheppard, his chest covered with thin, sturdy ropes and his back with the first aid kit. Lorne took field blankets, hand warmers and other odds and ends that were stuffed into the search and rescue bags. Sheppard took extra ammunition for the three of them, flares, flashlights and batteries and other military necessities.

“You mean now or in general? Because I find it hard to believe we’ll find them now,” Sheppard replied. They talked quietly and sparsely since they still operated under the assumption that someone kidnapped their people.

Lorne looked around him. He thought that the planet could be a nice vacation spot, especially if they would find some hot springs in the area. The fields that went on forever were also nice. Under the light of the two moons the grains looked silvery and shining, and they swayed in the light breeze like wheat, creating beautiful waves.

That was when Lorne stopped. “Wait,” he said, and the other two stopped.

“What is it?” Sheppard asked, immediately coming to stand next to him and aiming his P90.

“I don’t know,” Lorne said. He didn’t know what made him stop, but there was something strange about the field they were just passing. “There’s something strange over there,” he explained to Sheppard.

“Fine. We’ll check it out. Chewie, you stay here in case it’s a trap,” Sheppard said, and nodded his head to Lorne.

Lorne took point, carefully wading his way between thick blades heavy with grains. It was just ahead of them, a strange disturbance in the neat rows of the field.

Lorne turned to Sheppard and made the military hand signal ‘I see’, pointing ahead. Sheppard marked him back that he saw it too. Together, they edged closer.

“Oh, no,” Lorne couldn’t help but say, his hand automatically reaching for some sort of support. The only support available was Sheppard’s shoulder and to that he held tight, just like Sheppard held his. They had found Esposito and Vogel, and what they saw was hideous.

Both Esposito and Vogel lay naked on the ground. They were both beaten hard, with numerous wounds covering every available inch of skin. They were white with cold, nearly blue, and unconscious. Esposito’s body, small and nicely proportionate, was exposed to the silver light only to show that she was badly abused. Her arm was dangling limply, obviously broken, and on her small, perky breasts were asymmetric cuts made by a knife. The blond hairs of Vogel’s chubby chest were soaked with blood, and underneath it was very clearly a broken collarbone. There wasn’t an inch of fair skin left on him. Everything was covered with crimson, black and blue.

But the worst of it was the trickle of blood and some other substance from between both their bruised legs. Semen. Lorne realized, horrified, that they were both raped. And the amount of semen there could not belong to one person, or even two. He had to cover his mouth so as not to make a sound, and that motion woke him from his stupor.

Lorne quickly took off his backpack and took out blankets and hand warmers. He covered them both without moving them and planted the hand warmers on their necks, inner thighs and armpits. Sheppard was bending down to check on their vitals and to experimentally lift Esposito’s eyelid. She never budged.

Getting up, Sheppard kicked the ground viciously and swore savagely, such a hot fury on his face suddenly that Lorne was afraid to approach him. “Damnit, damnit, damnit, damnit!” he cursed, kicking at a rock with such force that it must’ve hurt his leg but he didn’t stop. “Shit,” he finally said, softly.

Lorne looked down at his hands instead of Sheppard, and noticed that they were shaking. He was remembering the time he wore a red chiton. What would have happened to him had Parrish been any slower was staring at him in the face. Only with an effort he managed to move his locked jaw.

“We should inform Atlantis. We can’t risk moving them,” Lorne said, voice gone soft from the burn in his throat. The horror was cold in his bones and he had yet to find the place from which he could summon his rage. He suspected that Sheppard was blaming himself for not being fast enough, and that this was what he was mostly angry about. But Lorne knew that there was nothing they could’ve done, and instead all he saw in front of him was the horror and tragedy of what had happened.

“Yes. We should,” Sheppard’s voice was distorted with anger, unrecognizable. He then took a few quick breaths and reached for his radio. “Hansen, dial Atlantis. Tell them that we have found both Vogel and Esposito, and that they both require medical attention. I want McKay to fly in Dr. Keller, Dr. Biro, Adams and Marie, and only them. Is that understood?” he barked into the radio. Lorne could hear Ronon closing in on their position after that.

There was a pause over the comm. Then, “Yes, sir.”

“How are they?” McKay’s voice asked.

“They need medical attention ASAP, Rodney. That’s how they are. Now go,” Sheppard’s tone prevented any further questions. He never stated the nature of their injuries, and it was a relief. Lorne imagined that both scientists would have a rough time dealing with everything that had happened to them even without everyone in Atlantis knowing.

Ronon approached the two unconscious scientists. “What happened?” he asked, bending down and starting to remove the blanket from Vogel with one hand while removing the first aid kit and opening it with the other. 

Lorne reached his hand and stopped him. “They were abused,” he said, and glanced up at Sheppard. Sheppard nodded, face pinched. “Sexually abused,” Lorne added. Ronon would probably know what happened along with the rest of the senior staff.

Ronon looked outraged and upset, two expressions that Lorne wasn’t used to seeing on his face. It startled him how Ronon’s usually gentle eyes could become so angry. Even when he fought the Wraith he didn’t look like this. Simply eager for battle.

“We should move them, though. It could be a trap,” Ronon’s voice had gone down an octave.

There was something dark and morbid about Sheppard when he said, “Let them come.”

 

####

 

McKay flew Biro, Keller, Adams and Marie to the field where they have found Vogel and Esposito, and they both received medical attention from the agitated staff. They were in hypothermic shock, had broken bones and numerous bruises both internal and external, and Dr. Biro expressed a concern for the integrity of Vogel’s annular muscle. McKay, subdued and speechless with horror, flew them back to Atlantis to receive proper medical care in discretion. Sheppard and Lorne followed on foot.

After they had some time to calm down, or at least suppress the emotions enough to be able to function properly, they consulted with Carter. She was already briefed about Esposito’s and Vogel’s situation, and was pale and angry when she said that if the culprits were still on the planet then they should be caught and brought to justice. On a more practical note, Vogel’s and Esposito’s equipment was taken, including their GDOs.

Lorne and Sheppard were given a few sweet, flour-based biscuits to eat to calm them down, and then sent to take a shower and get a change of clothes before returning to the planet. Lorne ended up with his head in the toilet, puking the entire content of his stomach out. He sat for as long as he could under the steaming water and shivered, trying to get their images out of his mind without success.

It wasn’t long before he and Sheppard needed to move out, tucked into warm and clean clothes and equipped with blankets and other warm things for the men who stayed behind. The men were already asleep inside the cloaked Jumper when they returned, and Sheppard went to join them wordlessly. No one asked questions and they didn’t volunteered information.

It was ten more hours until daylight, and it had been a draining experience. Sheppard left the control crystal that McKay had removed from the planet’s DHD in Atlantis for safe-keeping so no one would leave if they didn’t know about it. When dawn comes they would start searching and questioning every person they came across. Keller promised to provide them with DNA samples from the rapists, as many as she could make out, and they will compare their suspects against that.

But Lorne couldn’t sleep. The quiet and warmth of the Jumper made him feel suffocated, and he eventually squeezed through the partly opened rear hatch to relieve a bleary-eyed Miller. He couldn’t sleep so he might as well be useful.

Lorne sat by the fire, watching the flames dance and listening to the sounds of the night. It was silent, except for that accordion creature and the occasional snapping of wood in the fire. The light breeze stopped and Lorne was able to sit on a low stone that resembled a bench and lean back against the short back-support-like upwards curve. He sipped his tea – an Athosian herbal tea that was minty, spicy and helped in keeping one awake – in small sips so that the content would warm his tin cup and his hand more than his inside.

A movement from the direction of the Jumper had him pointing his M9, but it was only Sheppard. He followed Sheppard with his eyes as he made his way towards Lorne and sat beside him, close enough to touch from shoulder to thigh. It was comforting, and without a word Lorne passed Sheppard his cup. Their fingers brushed when Sheppard took the cup and drank in silence.

“Can’t sleep?” Sheppard asked, his voice low but not from sleep.

“No,” Lorne answered simply.

“Are you, uh… okay?” Sheppard asked again, his discomfort showing.

“No. I’m not,” Lorne said once more. He didn’t want to talk about it with Sheppard. Sheppard was awkward with emotions. He was the type of guy who was afraid of getting closer, who preferred to avoid his feelings rather than talk about them. Lorne wasn’t, and he didn’t want to have a conversation about this particular subject while Sheppard was tying himself in knots.

They were silent for a long time, both staring into the fire. Sheppard didn’t move from his position of sitting so close to Lorne, and when they passed the cup back and forth between them their fingers kept brushing. But it was fine. Sheppard’s hand and his mere presence helped ease the coldness inside of him, and Lorne hoped that his was doing the same for Sheppard.

“Why did you become a pilot?” Sheppard asked suddenly, after getting up to refill their shared cup. Lorne was surprised. No one had ever asked him that, as funny as it was. But he relished the opportunity to think of something other than that night’s occurrences.

“I grew up in San Francisco, in a small house two blocks from the bay. My parents still live there even now,” he smiled briefly. “Anyway, when I was a small child I used to share a room with my big sister, but when she started her teens my parents thought that we should be separated. So they fixed me a room in the attic, where we had these big roof windows you could open in the summer to let the breeze in.

“My bed was exactly beneath those windows, and every morning I would wake up and have a clear view of endless blue skies. You know the feeling that you have after you open your eyes but before you really wake up?” he looked at Sheppard, who nodded. “Every time I would open my eyes and see those blue skies and it was like flying. That was when I decided I want to fly, and the only way to do it was through the Air Force,” Lorne concluded. It was the first time the words ever left his mouth, and he was suddenly wary because they seemed so flimsy and foolish.

Sheppard simply smiled, a genuine and fond smile. When he reached for the tea, his fingers squeezed Lorne’s briefly before his smile disappeared behind the rim of the cup.

“What about you?” Lorne asked, cautiously. Sheppard never talked about his parents or his childhood and Lorne never asked. He suspected that something happened in Sheppard’s family or childhood that made him so closed off about the subject.

“Me?” Sheppard seemed almost as surprised as Lorne was when he asked Lorne the same question earlier. He then turned to look at the fire. “My family has a business for manufacturing parts for aircrafts, usually for the military as outside contractors. So I always wanted to fly,” he said simply.

Lorne was surprised. That could explain the pool in the back yard, but didn’t explain why Sheppard was in the Air Force. Especially if he was bisexual and given his problems with authority. “So why didn’t you fly civilian aircrafts?” he asked, tentatively.

Sheppard looked at him for a long time, his expression guarded, and Lorne felt like Sheppard was fighting with himself over whether or not to open his mouth.

“I didn’t get along with my old man,” Sheppard finally said, haltingly. “We never saw eye to eye. He had my entire future planned out for me by the time I was fourteen and everything I did that didn’t match his script was not good enough. Nothing I did was ever good enough. If I got an ‘A’, why didn’t I get an ‘A+’? If I got an ‘A+’, why couldn’t I work hard enough to get it in everything else?” Sheppard stopped for a moment and then surprised Lorne by saying, “It wasn’t that he was just disappointed in me, it was that he acted like every time he honestly believed in me and every time I let him down anew.”

Sheppard looked vaguely appalled and amazed at his outburst, as if he didn’t expect that to happen even though it was his mouth that had said the words. He looked at Lorne apprehensively, but Lorne simply drank from his cup. It was a big deal, for both of them, but making it a big deal would only freak Sheppard out.

“So you joined the Air Force?” he asked with just the right amount of curiosity and casualness. The tense muscles in Sheppard’s shoulders relaxed against Lorne’s own shoulder.

“Yes. I wanted to leave the house, I wanted to fly, and the Air Force offered me both. That was when we started fighting in earnest, my dad and me,” Sheppard said finally.

“Is that how you got here?”

Sheppard seemed to be thinking about what to say for a long time. By this time they were both holding the cup between their hands, without any of them noticing it, their fingers touching. It was warm and comforting, and Lorne didn’t have the energy to pull away even if any of their subordinates saw them.

“I met my wife Nancy when I was in the Air Force,” Sheppard said after a while. Lorne simply listened, even if it wasn’t what he asked. “She was working for the Homeland Security division that was in contact with our unit. We dated for a year, got married, realized it wasn’t the thing, and divorced after being together for ten months.

“My father thought that marrying her was the best thing I had ever done. He was very fond of her and was very upset that we divorced. Shortly after that, I was posted in Afghanistan,” he paused to smile bitterly, and threw a tiny stone he had in his free hand into the fire.

“When Holland’s chopper went down and I disobeyed the order and went to rescue him, my father got sick. Pneumonia he never managed to get over. I returned home and it was only because of his connections that they didn’t discharge me with dishonor. We had a big fight and when he said that I couldn’t even disobey an order properly, I left. I thought that this was what he wanted.

“I requested a post in Antarctica, almost got shot down by Carson and discovered I have the Ancient gene. I was told about the Stargate program and Elizabeth and O’Neill were pushing me to join. I… had nothing to lose,” Sheppard concluded finally in a neutral tone.

Lorne was silent for a long time. Usually, considering the kind of man Sheppard was, he would never even try to open that particular can of worms. But Sheppard was in an uncommonly talkative mood and Lorne knew that if he didn’t want to answer he simply wouldn’t. So Lorne asked.

“Did you talk to your father before he died, at all?”

Sheppard looked at the fire, his face stony. “No. I didn’t. I thought that this was how he wanted it to be, but on his wake my brother Dave told me that my father was sorry about everything that happened between the two of us… and so am I,” Sheppard said with a deceptively calm voice, but his fingers on the cup next to Lorne’s tightened their hold.

It was a lot to take in. Lorne didn’t think Sheppard told this to many people in his life. Maybe to his team or Dr. Weir, but somehow even that wasn’t certain. He felt privileged to be the listening ear for this particular story, so unlike his own. But he also remembered that witnessing something as horrible as they did tended to reorganize one’s priorities.

“Still, it must’ve been hard to come here from Earth, especially since you didn’t even know about the Stargate,” Lorne observed, not sure if any more of his questions would be answered and not wanting to ruin the peaceful mood by antagonizing Sheppard. Sheppard’s mere presence, his body heat, his fingers next to Lorne, they all gave him more comfort than he could put into words.

“Wasn’t it hard on you too?” Sheppard asked back.

“No. I was with the SGC for seven years before I was asked to go to Atlantis. I was used to wormhole travel, space travel and putting my life on the line on obscure and far away planets. Besides, when I was asked to join, we already had the Deadalus and Earth had the plans and ability to build more intergalactic vessels. I knew it wouldn’t be a one way trip,” Lorne explained. It was true. He went to Atlantis with the knowledge that even if the Deadalus was destroyed, every effort would be made to contact them or bring them home. Not to mention that they now had the intergalactic bridge. 

Sheppard pondered on that for a few moments before smiling sideways at Lorne. “You want to know the truth? I flipped a coin,” Sheppard said, mischievous.

Lorne’s eyebrows shot up. “You flipped a coin?” he echoed disbelievingly.

“Yup. Heads was going to Atlantis and Tails was staying on Earth,” Sheppard confirmed.

Maybe it was that he knew Sheppard well enough by now, maybe it was a hunch, but he asked something that should’ve been obvious considering that they were freezing together on an alien planet in another galaxy. “Which side did it fall on?”

Sheppard looked at him with mild wonderment. “Tails,” he said finally.

Somehow unsurprised, Lorne could only grin at him brilliantly, a grin Sheppard returned.

And then something swished in the windless fields to their eleven o’clock.

Lorne and Sheppard froze, hands on their P90s. When another swish was heard, they both ducked under the stone they sat upon, just barely avoiding getting hit by the bullets that suddenly sped over their heads.

“We’re under fire! I repeat, we’re under fire, your two o’clock! We need immediate backup!” Lorne bellowed into the radio, his P90 shooting into the darkness without really aiming. He could see nothing in the dark, and couldn’t risk raising his head.

Sheppard was already loading a new magazine into his weapon. “So they finally showed themselves,” he said, eager and furious once more.

“Justice for all, sir,” Lorne agreed. They nodded at each other, already knowing what the other would do. When next they rose from their hideout, Sheppard was spraying bullets to their right while Lorne was shooting at chest height to the left.

No one would be sorry for those bastards if they’d be killed in battle.

 

####

 

“They’re dead,” Miller said finally.

“Yeah,” Sheppard agreed, crouching to illuminate one bloodied body with the flashlight on his gun.

“They’re Genii,” Toriel growled angrily as he crouched to retrieve Vogel’s GDO from the grip of a dead hand.

“Yeah,” Sheppard said again, looking grim.

Soon after Lorne and Sheppard had begun spraying bullets into the dark, Hansen had shot a flare into the night sky and they made out eight figures in the red light. From there it was easier to take them out, especially since the men from the Jumper had the cover of the cloak and the protection of the rear hatch.

They were now all lying on the ground, pierced with enough bullets to kill a newly fed Wraith. And they were wearing Genii uniform, though their uniforms were tattered and dirty. It was unlike the Genii to be so scruffy. Even their militia was usually crisp and proud.

“Something tells me that these aren’t Ladon Radim’s men,” Sheppard said uneasily.

“Does it matter? They’re dead,” Ronon said, nudging one of the bodies with his boot none too gently.

“It does. They were after our scientists. They took their GDOs. They knew what it meant to have it and they looked for it,” Sheppard explained.

“Or they could be just a band of robbers who defected from the Genii and knows what a GDO is and who would be interested in it,” Ronon countered. Sheppard looked at Lorne, who shrugged.

“It’s possible. We’ve made practically as many enemies as we’ve made friends. Once they have a GDO it won’t be a problem getting Atlantis to lower the shield, and a lot of people would be happy to have that at hand. The Wraith and their worshippers, for one,” Lorne agreed with Ronon.

“Fine. Let’s pack it up. Take out the bags and put them in. I’m sure Dr. Keller will want to have a look at their DNA,” he looked at Ronon and Lorne. “We’ll consult Sam, but I’m pretty sure she will want to have a nice, long chat with Ladon anyway. We’ll see how we proceed from there.”

Ronon and Lorne both nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

Lorne stepped out of the event horizon and into Atlantis’ gate room, covered with mud and slime and wet to the very marrow of his bones.

“A small storm? I get it, Williams, you’re from Alaska. I’m sure that this is nothing for you but for me it’s a goddamn downpour,” Lorne grumbled at his sheepish teammate.

They were just returning from the town they visited off-world when the storm hit, and had to cover the next two klicks in a run and still got sodden wet. Lorne could still taste the slimy mud that found its way into his mouth after Miller slipped and the rest of them tripped on him. After that Williams was all smiles when he asked them why they were making such a big fuss out of such a small storm.

Lorne turned to walk out of the gate room when a familiar figure approached him.

“Major Lorne,” Teal’c smiled at him warmly, and bowed his head when he was close enough.

Lorne smiled back, stepping up the stairs to meet him. “Teal’c!” he said as warmly as the Jaffa, and nearly reached his hand to clasp Teal’c’s forearm before remembering that he was covered in dirt from head to toe. Instead, he smiled and spread his hands to the sides helplessly.

Teal’c looked as distinguished as Lorne remembered him to be, though his hair was longer and a broad white stripe adorned the right side of his head. He wore the long tunic of the free Jaffa.

“I see that you are well enough, Major Lorne. I hope that you are practicing hard,” Teal’c said, amusement coloring his voice. Lorne smiled.

“Just the usual in the Pegasus galaxy. Wraith, rain storms… but I practice, sure. I even had some of the younger marines asking me to teach them the technique,” Lorne admitted. Since his first encounter with Teal’c on P3X-403, where he puked his guts out in front of his men, Teal’c had trained with him in hand to hand combat and Jaffa fighting techniques. He was one of a selected number of SGC personnel to receive personal training from him, and it helped upping his skills level and keeping his stomach down.

“What about you? Why are you here?” Lorne asked Teal’c. They began walking out of the gate room together, and Lorne couldn’t help but wonder why Teal’c was alone. Maybe Carter was in a meeting.

“I am here to assist Ronon Dex to prepare for his IOA evaluation,” Teal’c stated.

“Oh, right. There was talk about something like this happening. I heard Teyla did good, but Colonel Carter fears that Ronon wouldn’t know how to handle the committee, right?”

“Indeed.” Teal’c confirmed gravely.

“So how’s it going?”

“It is not. Ronon Dex does not desire my assistance,” Teal’c seemed disturbed by that fact, but somehow to someone who knew Ronon it wasn’t such a big surprise.

“Maybe he’ll come around. Have you tried telling him what the committee is likely to ask?” Lorne asked, curious. Tht was something he would never have to go through, thankfully, not being an alien. But he had heard stories about Teal’c’s, Nyan’s and now Teyla’s interviews and none of them sounded like a pleasant experience. In most of the interview the committee was busy making sure none of the aliens who risked their lives for their human teammates on a daily basis will try to betray Earth.

“I have not. I was not given a chance,” Teal’c answered shortly.

“Oh. Well, he’s in the mess hall right now,” Lorne said as they passed the mess hall. Inside he could see Ronon sitting alone. “Maybe he’ll listen over lunch? Ronon tends to be more receptive if food is involved,” Lorne advised.

Teal’c paused and thought it over, his head tilted and lips pulling down. “You might be correct, Major Lorne. I believe I shall try again, thank you,” he said, grave and serious.

Lorne smiled. “Sure thing. I’ll hit the showers and then maybe I’ll swing by to see how you’re doing,” he offered. Teal’c bowed his head.

“It has been nice to see you again, Major Lorne. I wish you a most effective shower, you seem to need it,” Teal’c teased once more.

Lorne smiled. Jaffa humor was weird. “Thanks. You too, and good luck,” Lorne called after him before heading for his quarters.

Sheppard told him later that he’d missed one hell of a fight.

 

####

 

Lorne examined his work. It was the easy part, painting Atlantis’ spires and towers. The lights were dazzling and bright and the outline of the buildings very clear with two moons to illuminate it. He was now facing the real challenge and the reason why he began painting again: how to depict the enchanted blue-green light that the two moons were casting over the city and the ocean surrounding it.

He placed his easel on the highest balcony in one of the outer buildings on the northern pier, far away from the city. The light was good and bright and the wind was gentle and cool. He had his water-soluble colors on a simple square palette, a glass of murky water at his feet and a drying rug tucked into his pocket.

He was alone since no one came to that particular balcony in the tower, despite the tower being a very popular hang-out spot. From below he could hear laughter and the quiet murmur of conversation, and it helped him focus and eased his mind. It meant that there was no emergency, like the last time he had picked up painting.

He took village-green, porcelain-blue and pearly-white and mixed them together, adding one shade and then another until he was satisfied. He then applied it experimentally on the pencil sketch he had made before starting on the canvas. It needed fixing.

He was just about to add some more porcelain-blue when the door behind him opened and nearly made him dip his brush in his sunset-orange. He turned to see who it was, and found Sheppard staring at him with mild surprise.

“Sir,” Lorne greeted, smiling. Sheppard was wearing his uniform pants and the standard black shirt that every military member in Atlantis was equipped with, with the V-shaped zipper pulled down. He even had his M9 strapped on. Lorne himself was already off-duty, as the time was nearly 2430, and wore plain jeans and a comfortable sweatshirt. 

“Major,” Sheppard returned, approaching the easel. “So you really can paint,” he said, amazed. “And you’re good, too!”

Lorne chuckled. “You didn’t believe it?” he asked. He remembered that the first time Sheppard learned about his painting skills was when Lorne confessed to be a pretty good foot masseuse.

“I did. But there’s a difference between doodling pretty flowers on the edges of an office pad and this,” he examined the painting closely. Interested, Lorne watched him looking at the painting and comparing it to the reality as was seen from the balcony. “It’s incredible,” Sheppard said eventually, sincerely. “Is it finished?”

“No,” Lorne answered, returning to mixing his paints. Sheppard watched with evident interest. “I’m only now beginning to paint the most beautiful thing about the view. The light,” he answered.

Sheppard looked at the scenery with a frown. “You mean the moons?” he asked, dubious.

“Sure,” Lorne answered. When Sheppard still looked confused, Lorne joined him by the railing. “You want to tell me you never thought it was gorgeous?” he asked, gesturing at the sea and the city in the dark.

“Well… I suppose I have,” Sheppard’s brows drew down.

“Look. See how the light reflects on the water? How it colors the piers? How the clouds look like mist?” Lorne pointed out the various places where the unusual light turned the scenery almost magical.

Sheppard nodded his head. “You can paint all that?” he asked, amazed.

“Sure. That’s why I started this painting.”

“Is this your first?”

“At all? Hardly. I used to paint every weekend with my mother before joining the Air Force.”

“And in Atlantis?” Sheppard asked, curious. Lorne looked down.

“It’s my second,” he admitted, weary and uncomfortable all of the sudden. He hated remembering his first painting of Atlantis.

“Where’s the first?” Sheppard asked. He wasn’t looking at Lorne so he didn’t notice the way Lorne’s mouth thinned in sadness. It was inevitable to tell Sheppard about it.

“It’s in Scotland. I drew it on that Sunday a year ago, right before Doc Beckett died. I asked for, and got permission, to give it to his mother. I told her it was scenery from a book we both liked,” Lorne told him, a heaviness in his voice that was never gone when talking about Dr. Beckett. He was a dear friend and a good man, and was the first person who was really close to Lorne who died in Atlantis. Other people told him he was fortunate that Beckett was the only one. He never thought of it like that.

Sheppard’s face softened with sorrow. He said nothing for a while, and then changed the subject. Lorne expected it.

“What makes you paint?” Sheppard asked, leaning with his back against the rail.

Lorne’s brows lifted. “Uh… I paint when I see things that are worthy of being portrayed on the canvas, I suppose,” he answered. He never thought of it, he simply painted whatever he wanted to if and when he had the time.

“You do people too?” Sheppard gestured with his head at Lorne’s sketchbook where brushes of color obscured the graphite lines.

“Sure. A lot, actually,” as a matter of fact, Lorne had a good hand for people. He was good with proportions and with catching the little nuances of the human body. His portraits always came out very satisfying.

Sheppard got a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So…” he drawled. Lorne prepared himself. “What you’re saying is that I, for example, am not worthy of being painted,” he stated.

Lorne stood straighter, indignant. “I never said that!”

“No. But you said that you only paint things that are worthy of being portrayed onto the canvas and that you do a lot of portraits, yet I never received an invitation to sit in front of you,” Sheppard countered, smug.

Lorne smiled and shook his head. Sheppard was one of a kind, you could never be fully prepared for him. “Would you like me to draw your portrait, sir?” he asked, taking his sketchbook in his hand.

“Sure,” Sheppard agreed amiably, though his eyes lit up with excitement.

“Have a seat, then,” Lorne gestured towards one of the two benches lining the balcony’s walls. He could finish his other painting tomorrow.

Lorne looked at people with an eye of an artist, from time to time. He found their lines interesting, unique. McKay’s lopsided mouth, Teyla’s straight-backed pride, Ronon’s dreadlocks framing his face, Zelenka’s haloing hair, Dr. Backett’s startling blue eyes, Stackhouse’s expressive brows, Dr. Keller’s round face, Dr. Weir’s accomplished smile… but he never thought of painting any of their portraits. He had no idea why, but painting one of them suddenly thrilled him, especially because it was Sheppard.

Painting Sheppard, beyond strange, was a challenge. The thing the painter in Lorne liked most about Sheppard was the way his feelings were reflected in his eyes. He wanted to try and capture them, now that he had a chance to.

“Okay, what do I do now?” Sheppard asked. Lorne took his sketchbook and his HB pencil in his hand and took a good look at Sheppard, gauging the smooth, clean lines of his face and the cowlicks in his hair.

“Now,” Lorne drew an experimental line on a new sheet of paper and looked back at Sheppard. “Now you tell me what you’re doing on this balcony.” The line was accurate. He had a knack for portraits, though he liked nature and color best.

Sheppard shrugged. “I was down at the pier with James Watson. We’re thinking of setting some buoy markers to help us measure the distance and such. I passed by this balcony on my way to the transporter and saw the light on, so I went to have a peak,” he explained. “Are you sure you don’t need me to look at something, make a face or something?”

Lorne chuckled. “I can draw the general shape of your face quicker if you look only at me,” he said, distracted. When he looked up next, Sheppard had the kind of look in his eyes that defied against what Lorne just said, like trying to say, ‘I already look at you only’.

Lorne’s hand began the brisk work of depicting Sheppard’s hair. “You sure you have the time to sit here and model for me?” he asked, instead of thinking about his unintended innuendo.

“How long is it going to take?”

“An hour or so.”

“Sure. I have an hour. I was planning on making a late start tomorrow anyway,” Sheppard announced. “Thought I’d give you the opportunity to choose the song to start the playlist with,” he added playfully.

Lorne snorted. “Like that would help. You’ll change the song as soon as you’ll step into the office,” he said. Surprisingly, the lack of order in Sheppard’s hair made it easier to draw him, and Lorne was done after only a short time. “I already got used to you cheating,” he added.

Sheppard was about to reply when the lights suddenly went out.

“Lorne, did you do that?” Sheppard asked, on edge.

“No, sir,” Lorne said, looking at the door and then at the city. “Though it seems like a regional malfunction. Look, the control tower still has power,” he pointed at the rest of the city, now bright and far away from their dark balcony.

Sheppard tried to hit the door’s control crystals just in case. “Damn it. You’re right. Sheppard to the control room,” he said into his radio.

“Go ahead, Colonel,” Amelia’s voice confirmed. Lorne peered down and heard bewildered voices, but if they all carried their radios with them then they should be able to listen to what Sheppard was asking.

“The north tower just went dark,” Sheppard reported.

“Yes, thank you, we know,” McKay’s voice snapped instead of Amelia’s.

“Rodney, what happened? Is everything alright?” Sheppard asked, concerned.

“No. Everything is not alright because _Doctor Pipt_ here couldn’t even perform the simplest of simulations without disrupting power to the entire city!” McKay was shouting angrily, presumably at someone who was standing in front of him.

“What happened?” Sheppard repeated, calmer.

“The conduit leading power to the north section of the city was overloaded when Dr. Geisel, instead of performing a simulation to see how the city would react in case of a ZPM power fluctuation, accidentally sent the marco to the actual system,” Zelenka’s voice explained, calmer. “It’s no big deal. We’ll have it fixed in an hour or so.”

“No big deal!? Are you kidding me? His incompetence is beyond even _me_ to describe! Even my brother-in-law could do it better, and he’s an English major!” McKay snipped angrily over the comm.

“You’re going to fix it though, right?”

“No, Colonel. We’re going to sit here, twiddling our thumbs and cry over the bitter fate that is our lot in life. Care to join in!?” McKay was on a roll, apparently.

“Just get it fixed, Rodney. I need that power back,” Sheppard said, discouraged.

“Why, you’ve got a hot date and you want to keep the lights on?” McKay asked in his patented angry sarcasm voice. Sheppard sighed.

“Not exactly.”

“What? That means that you do?” McKay sounded more interested than was probably healthy.

“McKay, I’m stuck on a cold balcony with Lorne. Just get the damn conduit fixed, will you?” Sheppard ordered him, his voice hard and uncompromising.

“Oh,” McKay sounded disappointed. “Sure. Be with you in an hour,” he added before the radio went silent again.

Lorne looked down and could see a few silhouettes waving at him from far below. Some were already settling on the pier and pointing out stars. “Looks like we’re in for a long wait,” he told Sheppard, gesturing at the people below them.

“They okay?” Sheppard joined him by the rail. It was dark on the northern pier since it was the farthest from the city and the city’s lights didn’t illuminate it. Only the moons were casting a strange and pale glow that was just enough to see where to put your foot without stumbling.

“They heard everything. They’ve already settled down to stargaze,” Lorne said. He wasn’t concerned. Dr. Geisel, who was very short in height as McKay had so delicately pointed out, was new to Atlantis. He couldn’t possibly cause too much damage. That took a lot of luck and incredible competency.

“Not much to stargaze at, with all these clouds,” Sheppard commented, looking up and then at the Atlantis painting that still stood on Lorne’s easel. “Think you can finish my portrait while we wait?”

Lorne looked at Sheppard’s face. There was plenty of moonlight but it varied in degree whenever a cloud swept over one of the moons. But even when the light was strong the blue-green quality of it made everything look strange, somehow distorted. Shadows existed where there were none, and Sheppard’s face had dips and rises to it that were not visible in full light.

“I don’t think so, not in this light. I can see your face well enough, but the light is deceptive and the portrait will come out wrong,” he admitted regretfully.

Sheppard was quiet for a moment, looking at the sky and then at his unfinished portrait. “You know, I heard that there are blind people who can paint by feeling their subject’s faces. Think you can do it?” Sheppard asked challengingly.

Lorne swallowed. He could do it. Had already done so, after his sister bet him he couldn’t paint her portrait if the basement light was off. But it meant touching Sheppard’s face. He remembered the last time he had an intensive touching session with Sheppard, and was not keen on repeating it again.

Rationally, at least. There was a part of him that was thrilled at the idea. That was thrilled when Sheppard confided in him by the fire on M9G-103, that he had asked Lorne to paint his portrait. That he was now asking Lorne to touch him.

“You want me to touch you?” he asked, simply to clarify things. Maybe Sheppard had some other idea.

“Yeah, sure. Why not? It’s for a noble cause such as my portrait, right?” Sheppard agreed easily. “Besides, I didn’t bring any cards and unless you want to play twenty questions…” he trailed off and shrugged, unperturbed. Conversation was never an option because as it always was whenever two people were forced to talk none of them had anything to say.

Things suddenly made sense to Lorne. It never occurred to Sheppard that his feelings might be reciprocated. He never really noticed Lorne’s reactions to his proximity or touch. He was certain, Lorne realized, that Lorne was straight and oblivious to Sheppard’s feelings, so he never even expected Lorne to reciprocate. And he was doing the only thing an officer attracted to another, straight officer, could do: jump at every opportunity to be alone and touching one another without looking like he was trying to hit on Lorne. Lorne knew this because he was there once, too.

“No. I don’t want to play twenty questions,” Lorne answered Sheppard’s question. “Come here and stand in front of me,” he ordered, putting his painting of Atlantis down and replacing it with his sketchbook on the easel. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was that he wanted to touch Sheppard as much as Sheppard wanted to be touched, and maybe it was that he was trying to get back at Sheppard for driving him crazy without even being aware of it, but he would do it.

Something in Lorne gave in. His resolve, his strength, his common sense or maybe all three together. But he wanted to touch Sheppard and was tired of denying it. It was exactly the sort of thing that got him closer to the inevitable explosion between them, two steps at a time, but right now he wasn’t thinking about anything other than the next hour and the immediate future.

There were so many reasons to do this, all of them wrong. All the right reasons, the reasons not to do it, eluded Lorne if he tried to remember them. So he took a deep breath and simply didn’t try. He was getting ready to explore the enticing man in front of him, who was his exclusively for the first and maybe last time in his life.

Sheppard obediently came and stood before Lorne, and Lorne picked up his HB pencil and placed his 2B pencil on the easel next to him. He then, very slowly, reached his hand and touched Sheppard’s brow. He ran the tips of his fingers along the slight creases there, gauging the distance between his hairline and his brows, allowing sensitive nerves to fill in for what he couldn’t see.

He slid over the thin brows, feeling their uneven shape, the slightly coarse hair tickling the pads of his fingers when he disrupted it. Sheppard’s brows were short, ending just at the edges of his eyes. He drew their shape in as great detail as he could, making a two-dimensional representation of what he felt under his hand, what he saw in the deceptive moonlight and what he remembered in his mind. They anchored his painting.

The sky became darker as a cloud moved to cover one of the moons.

Lorne’s fingers strayed to Sheppard’s eyes and he watched, entranced. He watched his fingers trailing the small space between Sheppard’s brow and his eye, and felt the thin, fragile skin under his fingertips. He watched as his fingers moved to the edge of Sheppard’s eye, where the fold of skin made them look more slanted than they really were, even if the moonlight showed him only darkness. He felt the creases of laughter and sun in that darkness.

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me,” Lorne commanded in a low voice when Sheppard’s eyes slid close at the intrusion of Lorne’s fingertips. Sheppard snapped his eyes open, looking at Lorne with amazement. Lorne never took that tone of voice with him before.

Lorne felt the shape of Sheppard’s eyes, almond-like, and matched it to the one he remembered. His memory of Sheppard’s face was surprisingly vivid and accurate, matching the patterns his fingers were drawing on Sheppard’s skin.

He held Sheppard’s cheek cupped in his hand while he drew, his thumb sweeping charted territory when he needed to refresh his memory. He could feel Sheppard shivering lightly in his hold, but he doubted that it was due to the cold. Sheppard’s skin was so warm it nearly scorched Lorne’s hand.

Lorne moved on to Sheppard’s nose. He felt the uneven line of it, the way his nostrils made the sides of his nose arch up slightly. He never noticed the slight curve of Sheppard’s nose before he saw him in the moonlight. He must’ve broken it at some point. It healed nicely, but the moonlight made it prominent and crooked.

When Lorne’s fingers skimmed Sheppard’s nostrils, feeling the slightly bigger right one, Sheppard’s breath puffed over his fingers and the tense edge around him ebbed away. He was laughing, and somehow it bothered Lorne. He wanted Sheppard gasping and shaking, not laughing.

Lorne brought both hands down to his sketchbook. He still had a lot of work to do, but it was vital that he get the main features of Sheppard’s face on paper. Later, when he would have his light back, he could add the necessary shading to create depth and depict the finer lines of Sheppard’s face.

Lorne then looked at Sheppard once again. Sheppard was still smirking, and Lorne felt an urge to replace that smirk in favor of a more sensual expression. He touched Sheppard’s cheek, cupping it with his hand instead of feeling it with his fingertips, and the smirk indeed died. Sheppard tried to yank his face free, eyes wide and panicked, but Lorne’s other hand was quicker. He cupped both of Sheppard’s cheeks in his hands, avoiding his radio, and forced him to meet his eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. His voice was a demanding whisper, and Sheppard’s was hoarse and quiet when he answered.

“No.”

Lorne knew he should stop. Sheppard was getting uncomfortable, was becoming aware of what he’d asked Lorne to do. But Lorne’s own body felt alive and hot, and his hand got used to the feel of Sheppard’s skin. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. He was enchanted by the look of Sheppard in the moonlight and under his hand.

The sky turned brighter again as the cloud obscuring one of the moons was blown away by high winds.

Lorne marked with his 2B pencil the faint lines of Sheppard’s cheeks and the small dot that was a beauty spot on the lower half of his left cheek. Cheeks could not be drawn, only come to view with the proper shading. As is a chin, though Lorne felt the shape of Sheppard’s round and firm chin nonetheless. The stubble on Sheppard’s cheeks and chin prickled his fingertips, making him ache deep in his chest from the sensation.

Lorne’s thumb then rose to the patch of skin just under Sheppard’s bottom lip, once more feeling the stubble that adorned it. Sheppard stepped forward, and it seemed like both moons were covered now especially for him.

Lorne realized that he was painting, was seeing his painting and comparing it to his model, without it really registering in his brain. All he could see, all he could think of, was his finger going up to trace Sheppard’s slightly parted lips.

Lorne’s finger circled the outline of Sheppard’s lips, feeling the curve of his upper, thinner one, the narrow cannel that went up to his nasal septum and then the two mounds shaping it. They were surrounded with coarse stubble, but when Lorne’s thumb traveled to brush Sheppard’s lower lip he was met with soft and silky skin. He wondered how it would feel to be kissed by Sheppard, how it would feel to have Sheppard’s soft lips on his while his coarse stubble was causing beard-burns on Lorne’s face. 

Sheppard’s breath was shuddering against his fingers. His eyes were closed and he looked like someone trying to fight his own body’s reactions. He swallowed convulsively a few times before he managed to get his throat to work. “Lo-“ he began, but Lorne’s thumb on his lips sealed them together.

“Shh,” he hushed Sheppard, watching his thumb press against those luscious lips. He wondered what would happen if he slipped his finger into Sheppard’s mouth, whether Sheppard would suck it in or turn away in disgust. Instead he moved to trace a small scar just in the middle of Sheppard’s lower lip, barely visible if not for the strange light that made the way it cut his lip in the middle so prominent.

Sheppard was standing so close now. Close enough that Lorne could feel his warm breath on his face. Somehow Lorne’s hand was resting against the curve of Sheppard’s jaw and his thumb still caressing Sheppard’s lips.

The light became dimmer still, and it felt like he was inside a dream. In dreams everything was allowed. Lorne leaned in, slowly, watching Sheppard’s closed eyes and starting to close his. He licked his lips and a tremor of excitement went through him.

But good dreams always ended too soon.

The light overhead suddenly flared to life, casting a too strong glare that hurt their eyes. The radio crackled to life and McKay’s voice was heard. “Sheppard, is everything okay? The problem should be fixed.”

Sheppard opened his eyes and look straight into Lorne’s. Lorne could see the panic and horror seeping into him and felt the tightening of muscles where his hand now rested on Sheppard’s arm. He was going to bolt.

Lorne grabbed his arm and held him still, seating him on the balcony’s bench and checking the door. It worked perfectly fine. “McKay, this is Lorne. Power has returned to the north pier and everything is fine,” he reported, turning his back on Sheppard to give them both time to regain their composure.

“Okay. That’s good to hear. We’ll be heading there to perform a system analysis and test for secondary damages in a minute,” McKay said, more to himself than to Lorne, and no more chatter was heard.

Lorne turned to Sheppard. Everything was strange, but he forced all thought away until later. He needed to get this done with. “Sit here. I’ll be finished in just a moment,” he told Sheppard, showing him the rough sketch he had made in the dark. It still needed shading and refining, but it was near completion. It was somehow very important that he completed it. 

Sheppard looked at the portrait with confusion and… disappointment? Did he think that Lorne was as gone to the intimacy as Sheppard was and was disappointed to be proven wrong? He wasn’t far off, though Lorne knew that Sheppard hadn’t even the first clue that Lorne was touching him in any way that was not professional. Emotions and arousal tended to cloud one’s judgment like that.

Yet Lorne was very unprofessional and if the lights hadn’t returned, he would’ve kissed Sheppard. Kissed for real, with lips and tongue and hands and everything.

“I need you to look at the southern pier now,” Lorne instructed. “That’s it. Raise your head a little… good. Tilt it to your left… good.” Sheppard obediently did as he was told, and looked at the southern pier as if his life depended on it. Lorne couldn’t really blame him. He worked in silence, feeling the thick tension like water-laden mist around them.

Twenty minutes after the power returned, Lorne released Sheppard.

 

####

 

Teyla was keeping John company in the mess hall when Major Lorne appeared. She was tired from the pregnancy and nauseous from the very smell of Earth’s food. The smells of meat, especially an animal they called pork, of an assortment of milk-based sauces and dishes and of burnt coffee were making her mouth water in an unpleasant way.

John was just telling her of a famous golf game he participated in as a child, a fascinating story she was sure, when Major Lorne stopped by their table. He was dressed for a mission and the first thing Teyla noticed was that he was extremely nervous. In his hand he held a big manila envelope.

“Major, going to M2N-856?” John greeted casually. Teyla turned to look at him with surprise. Did he not notice the Major’s discomfort? It was palpable.

“Yes, sir,” Major Lorne replied. “We’re heading out in five minutes. I just wanted to give you this, from yesterday,” he handed John the envelope. Teyla expected John to comment about his behavior, maybe ask if he was sure he was alright and fit to go on a mission, but John remained silent and oblivious.

“What is it?” he asked, instead.

“Your portrait. I really have to go, sir. Enjoy your meal. Teyla,” Major Lorne nodded to her and fled the room. That was what Teyla would call his actions.

She liked Major Lorne. He was always nice to her, especially now that she was pregnant, and was the first of the people of Earth to actually congratulate her whole-heartedly for it and sooth her fears. She knew that John was fond of him as well, but his behavior confused her.

She turned from looking after Major Lorne’s retreating back to John, planning on asking him if something happened to the Major, but stopped. John was staring at a large piece of thick white paper with a huge smile on his face.

“Look,” he said brightly. “My portrait. Lorne drew this. You should see his other works, that man has talent. I never really thought he could do this,” John said proudly, still looking at the paper in front of him.

“Did you not believe him when he said that he could paint well?” Teyla inquired.

John looked at her with confusion in his eyes. “Uh… I believed him,” he said, as if pulled from his thoughts. Teyla had a feeling that it was not only Major Lorne’s painting skills that John doubted. She also found his pride in his portrait misplaced since he was not the artist and he was not in the habit of taking credit for other people’s works, but seeing as they both knew who the artist really was she let it go. 

She was once again about to approach the subject of Major Lorne’s obvious discomfort and John’s lack of reaction to it when he handed her the portrait.

In the portrait John was wearing his uniform shirt and was looking at the upper right corner of the page. His gaze was intense and firm. He seemed like he was about to step out of the portrait and walk through a wormhole to face a new adventure. The lines were at once soft and hard, fine and broad. John’s face was full of little nuances that made his portrait as accurate as a picture taken with a camera, yet it was more than that. The drawing wasn’t flattering in any way, nor was it crooked or distorted. It presented John at his best natural self.

The Athosians respected painting. Every child could scribble with a piece of charcoal on a stone, but it took real talent to paint people and scenery. Teyla’s people believed that being painted by someone required the outmost trust in each other and in the friendship two people shared since a painting reflected the way the artist sees his model. It was drawn with the mind’s eye as well as with the hand and it could not lie.

This painting told her only one thing. The person who drew it was very familiar with John, and felt for him deeply. The very fact that he managed to capture the intense look in John’s eyes said it. He did not try to idolize John, make him younger or prettier or fiercer, but did not try to diminish him either. The flaws were depicted along with the perfections. He knew John’s face intimately, depicted it with sure hands and long strokes of charcoal. Teyla’s sharp eyes detected only a handful of deletions barely seen on the paper, pointing at a sure image the artist had in mind.

It was more than mere talent or respect. The person who drew John loved him very much.

The person who drew John was Major Lorne.

Was this why he was so uncomfortable? Because he knew that people could tell how he felt by looking at this astounding portrait? And most importantly, was John not aware of the Major’s feelings?

“You’re awfully quiet,” John commented after a while. Teyla took her eyes off the painting.

“When was this drawn?” she asked.

“Yesterday, when we got stuck on a balcony together with no light. Lorne started painting me when the light was still on, but most of it he did in partial darkness,” there was something in the way John held his body, something in the way his eyes shifted downwards and sideways for a second, that told her that something else had happened regarding that portrait.

“It is very nice,” she said, almost absently. Had Major Lorne confessed his love and was rejected? John did not seem as embarrassed about his presence as he was when alien women tried to string a conversation with him after he rejected their advances.

Will he even reject the Major?

“Good,” John said, startling her. “I’m going to look for a place to put it in my room. You want to come with me?” he asked, gesturing at the portrait.

“No, thank you. My feet hurt and I do not wish to walk at the moment,” Teyla declined. She needed some time to think this over.

“Suit yourself,” John said easily, leaving her behind. Like with Major Lorne, Teyla looked at John’s retreating back until he was gone.

John had not expressed interest in alien women, or Earth women, for a long time now, Teyla was startled to realize. She remembered their first year as a team. John would eye every attractive female that crossed his way, and if he had time he would actively seek them out and talk to them. He usually got plenty of smiles and adoring looks, and even some… ‘action’, as Rodney so eloquently called it. However, it has been a while now since he went to any length to seek out company. He still looked after attractive women, but most of the time he would forget about them as soon as they were out of his sight.

Teyla did not notice it at the time. She had been preoccupied recently, with the disappearance of her people and Kanaan and the pregnancy, but now that she thought it over it seemed odd.

She tried to recall previous encounters between John and Major Lorne, and was astonished at what she could see in her mind’s eye. John was always standing close to the Major, was always in contact with him in one way or another. She never noticed it because the touches were always friendly and light, well within Earth’s social norms. But he did not do so with other people.

He was always around the gate room when Major Lorne’s team embarked on or returned from a mission. Teyla knew it because she was often the one who walked the halls with him, talking to him and not really paying attention to where he was steering her. Even now she had no doubt that he was walking to his room via the control tower.

He gazed after Major Lorne whenever the Major left before him, and he always knew when Major Lorne entered the room. He remembered the brand of aftershave Major Lorne used. He was more playful when the Major was around. He was strangely proud of Major Lorne’s portrait… no. It was not that he was proud of having his portrait painted as much as he was proud in the Major’s skills, almost like a lover would be. He…

Did John harbor feelings for Major Lorne as well? He must be, but she was too in love with Kanaan around the time John stopped looking at others and was later too concerned about her people to see it.

John was not the type to sit idly by and wait. When he wanted something he usually went out of his way to have it. Then why was he not going after Major Lorne? It was obvious, from the drawing if not from anything else, that the Major returned his feelings.

Confused, Teyla decided she needed help. John was her friend, and if he was in love yet unable to act upon it she wanted to know why.

Rodney and Radek were sitting at a table alone and discussing something that involved, if Rodney’s flailing hand was any indication, large circles and long pipes. “…log indicates that it would take a massive-”

“Gentlemen, may I sit with you?” Teyla interrupted the two arguing men. Rodney and Radek looked confused for a moment before realizing she was talking to them and about their table. Teyla wondered if being absent-minded was a quality all the scientists from Earth shared.

“Of course! Here, sit and I’ll bring you some tea!” Radek said, pulling a chair for her and hurrying to the line to get the tea before she could tell him that she desired none. He meant well, she knew.

Rodney was looking at her apprehensively, as if she was a riddle he could not quite decipher. She knew that he found her pregnancy beyond him, and that it was this fact that was making him nervous.

“I come looking for assistance, Rodney,” she said when Radek returned and poured her a cup of tea. She was relieved that it was Athosian tea and not the dark brand that the people of Earth seemed to like.

“Oh,” Rodney looked surprised. “Of course,” he said.

Teyla debated whether to mention John’s name, but decided against it. She was there, after all, to find out about Earth’s customs regarding coupling, and if there was some taboo that prevented John from going after Major Lorne then she did not wish to embarrass him.

“I was wondering if there are any restrictions or inhibitions in your society regarding marriage and coupling,” she said, simply. Rodney and Radek exchanged bewildered looks.

“Actually there are many,” Radek said slowly, pushing his glasses up his narrow nose. “You can’t marry someone who’s already married. You can’t marry someone who’s not of legal age-“

“Can’t marry someone by force-“ Rodney interjected.

“Can’t marry someone who’s dead-“

“Ew, Radek!”

“What? It’s true!”

“Fine, fine, whatever. Um... you can’t marry your first degree relatives-“

“Can’t marry more then one person in most modern countries-“

“Can’t marry fictional characters-“

“There are places where you can’t marry someone whose religion is different than your own-“

“Oh, please!” Rodney wore one of his most degrading expressions. “That’s a bad one,” he said scathingly.

“Maybe it is, but it’s also true. Christians and Jews can’t marry, for example, according to the religious law!” Radek reproved him.

“The religious law is a joke. For all you know Jesus was a Prior and God was an Ori,” Rodney snorted, and suddenly they both went silent and contemplative, shifting uncomfortably in their chairs.

“You know, Rodney, you scare me sometimes,” Radek said uneasily.

Rodney looked equally disturbed. “I sometimes scare myself,” he admitted reluctantly.

Teyla did not know what was said that caused both man such disquiet so she decided to bring the subject back on track, and give it a little nudge forward.

“What about gender restrictions?” she asked, drawing both men’s attention to her.

“You mean homosexuality?” Radek asked, somewhat confused.

“Like she knows what that is. Did you mean same-sex relationships? Then the answer is that while it is not forbidden in modern countries, most of them don’t allow two people of the same sex to get legally married,” Rodney clarified. Now they were getting closer, and Teyla was relieved.

“But they can be together and form a relationship, do they not?” she asked.

“In Canada, yes. Where he comes from, it’s still a crime,” Rodney jerked his thumb at Radek, who shrugged helplessly.

“Are you a… homosexual, Radek?” Teyla asked. Rodney confused her with his stressing the differences between his country and Radek’s.

Rodney snorted while Radek smiled and shook his head. “Him? Yeah, right. He’s practically Casanova. Every chick in Atlantis has a phase where she thinks he’s cute,” he said derisively and, Teyla could tell, with no small amount of envy.

“What about the United States? Is it acceptable there?” Teyla continued to probe instead of lingering over her mistake, but she seemed to have run out of Rodney’s patience.

“Yes, there too. But you know, it would be a lot easier if you’d simply asked us what you want to know,” he said, impatient.

Teyla considered it for a moment. Then she decided to supply partial information. “I have seen two of the marines looking and behaving around each other in a manner that made it clear to me that they both have feelings for each other, yet they do not seem to act upon it. I was wondering why that is,” she said, thinking and double-thinking every word. Even if the United States permitted such relationships, something must have kept John from pursuing Major Lorne, and it was not insecurity regarding Lorne’s feelings. To her, it was clear as daylight.

“Ah,” was all Radek and Rodney said.

“I’m sorry?”

“The Americans still haven’t made significant progress since the middle ages, you see, though they certainly made more progress than his country,” Rodney once again pointed at Radek, who was now starting to get upset. “Homosexuals aren’t allowed to serve in the military. They get discharged with dishonor and their rights revoked, or they get thrown into jail, if they’re discovered,” he said. Teyla was horrified.

“Simply because a man preferrs male companions over females?” she asked, incredulous.

“See? Primitive societies are better at these kinds of things than our ‘oh so advanced industrialized world’. Though Canada, of course, has long since allowed gays to serve openly in the military.”

“My society is not primitive, Rodney!”

“Uh… right. Um… sorry.”

“It’s not entirely true, though,” Radek said thoughtfully. “They now have that ‘Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’ business.”

“And that is…?”

“A deliberate loophole they created in the military law. It dictates that no senior officer is allowed to ask you about your sex life and you are not allowed to volunteer information. That way, unless you get caught in the act, you can do whatever you want as long as you’re discreet,” Radek explained.

“If there is a loophole, why the two marines I saw do not use it?” Teyla asked. That loophole seemed very convenient. No one would ask John and Major Lorne about their actions since they were the two senior officers in Atlantis other than Colonel Carter, and to Teyla Colonel Carter seemed very open-minded.

“Uh…” Radek appeared to be thinking it over.

“Was one of them more senior than the other? Maybe a direct commanding officer?” Rodney asked. Radek suddenly looked sharply at Teyla, waiting for her answer.

“Yes. They are a commanding officer and a direct subordinate,” she confirmed. Radek looked down at the table and Teyla suspected that he knew she was not talking about marines, but she dared not speak out loud.

“Oh. Then there are the regulations against fraternization, meaning against any kind of romantic involvement between commanders and subordinates,” Rodney said. “It’s actually one I agree with,” he added. Teyla looked at him, surprised.

“You do?”

“Yes. It makes sense,” Rodney argued.

“I do not understand how your people could possibly hope to contain human emotions with laws and regulations. It makes absolutely _no_ sense,” Teyla stressed. 

“It doesn’t say not to have feelings for people under your command, for example, but it does say that you shouldn’t act upon them,” Rodney explained, exasperated.

“Rodney, I disagree,” Teyla said, disbelieving. Has Rodney learned nothing during his time in the Pegasus galaxy? How could he say such things? “Happiness is so sparse, and life is so short, that one must embrace whatever happiness life bestows upon him!” she told Rodney passionately.

“If it was any other situation I might’ve agreed,” Rodney’s voice broke slightly on the words. “But imagine that I’m your commanding officer and your lover, and now I need to send you on a suicide mission or a situation you can’t possibly survive, in order to save the city. How would you feel? How would I feel? Or imagine that I’m your commanding officer and I’m injured and you need to go without me, how would you feel? Imagine that I would have to choose between your life and the lives of ten Athosians, or you between my life and the Athosians, how would you do that, huh? What about the fact that I love you and don’t want to put you in a direct line of fire, how’s that fair to the other soldiers under my command? How would I look as a commander then?” Rodney said heatedly.

Teyla bowed her head. She could not deny the justice of his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one would be surprised if I said I don't really know how to paint, right?


	7. Chapter 7

Lorne stared at the marker that blinked repeatedly at the end of his latest review of the Genii intelligence on the Wraith. It was part of his duties to compile the report for Earth along with the proper reservations. Later he would send it to Sheppard and Carter for inspection before forwarding it to Earth on the next outgoing data-burst. But his mind was not on the report he was due to pass forward to Sheppard, but on Sheppard himself.

He had crossed the line. He took the initiative to seduce Sheppard, knowing that he shouldn’t, and he had finally crossed the line. Now the tower of cards he built himself as a sense of security was collapsing, his denial, his ability to resist, the very will to do so.

He no longer had the motivation to fight his attraction to Sheppard. And he could no longer pretend that it was only attraction and not what it really was. He could no longer deny that he was in love with Sheppard. He was afraid that the next time they would be alone together he wouldn’t be able to play the friendly touches game. He would go for the real thing, kiss Sheppard and proceed to do whatever he’d be allowed: suck Sheppard off, allow Sheppard to fuck him, anything.

He was tired of fighting, tired of pretending. But he didn’t want to leave Atlantis, and he didn’t want to leave Sheppard. He knew that he had no choice. At some point he would have to request reassignment before both their feelings would put the city at risk, if they hadn’t already, and prevent them from doing their jobs. Before Sheppard realized that Lorne was also in love with him.

Sheppard didn’t know. Lorne knew it because he knew what it felt like to be in love with a fellow officer. You never expect a straight man to understand that he’s been hit on, or to reciprocate, so you prefer to watch out for your own reactions for fear of being too obvious to anyone else instead. And sometimes it’s just that you’d rather believe in that illusion than bother watching out. 

At the Air Force Academy Lorne had a thing for his tent mate for basic cadet training, an officer named Morrison. Whenever they were around each other Lorne was too busy trading carefully and holding himself in check to see it until Morrison cornered him and told him that he knew, that he noticed. Lorne never could pinpoint when Morrison began to notice but Morrison was fine with it, and continued being Lorne’s friend until they graduated from the Academy. 

“Evan.”

Lorne looked up in surprise. No one called him Evan on Atlantis except Major Marks when the Deadalus was in the city, who was Lorne’s friend for a long time. The only other person who called him by his first name was Sheppard when he was practically feinting with fatigue.

Lorne looked up to see Zelenka standing at the entrance to his office. He was dressed in sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt, and was wearing sandals on his feet. He was obviously not working at the moment, though he still had his earpiece on as required.

“Doc. What are you doing here so late in the night?” The truth was it was half an hour before dawn. Lorne had taken to working at night since the incident on the balcony two weeks ago, and when he worked during the day he did so from a remote terminal in Zelenka’s lab. Zelenka assured him that he didn’t mind, and was glad for the company and the availability of a gene carrier.

Lorne was outright avoiding Sheppard without regards of the consequences. So far no one had noticed, especially since he had spent eight days off-world the morning after painting Sheppard’s portrait securing a peace treaty.

“How long do you plan to keep this up?” Zelenka asked, moving to crouch next to Lorne’s chair.

Lorne looked down at him, confused. “Keep what up?”

“Evan, we’re friends. We may not be as close as Rodney and Colonel Sheppard are, but I consider you a close friend nonetheless,” Zelenka took off his glasses and looked at Lorne with tired eyes. Without his glasses he seemed vulnerable and painfully honest.

“Thank-” Lorne was about to return the sentiment when Zelenka’s hand rose up to stop him.

“You’re in love with Colonel Sheppard, and he’s in love with you. How long are you going to keep hiding from him?” Zelenka asked plainly.

Lorne gaped at him, speechless and frightened. His mind conjured all sorts of arguments to deny that simple truth, but each was weaker than the other.

“I have eyes, you know. And I had a conversation with Teyla, whose eyes are not clouded by Earth’s social norms. It’s not clear at all, if that’s what you’re worried about. It took me a very long time to put the pieces together and some help from an outside source,” Zelenka hurried to reassure him. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised quietly, when Lorne continued to gape. Lorne slowly leaned back in his chair, breathing once again.

“But right now you’re being very conspicuous, you know. How long do you think it’ll take Colonel Sheppard to notice that you’ve been working at night? That you’re always in my lab and never at the office? He would want answers,” Zalanka said gently, his long-fingered hand covering Lorne’s.

Lorne rubbed his other hand over his tired face. It was already 0800 and he was working since 0100. He was tired, mentally and physically. “And what am I supposed to do, Radek? Let it happen? I can’t deny it any longer. It’s out of control. This is the only solution I could think of, the only one I have left here,” Lorne said. “It’s this or reassignment,” he added quietly. 

Zelenka seemed taken aback by the last bit of Lorne’s words “It doesn’t have to be this way,” he said.

“If not this way, then we’d be risking the safety of Atlantis and I’d ruin my career along with Sheppard’s. He doesn’t deserve that and I don’t want it to happen,” Lorne replied wearily.

“Do you want to leave?”

“Of course not. The last time we left it was horrible, but continuing as we are now would mean-”

“It would mean that you and Colonel Sheppard would both be miserable and alone, when you could be happy together,” Zelenka cut him off.

“Will we be happy together, Radek? Let’s pretend for a crazy moment that Sheppard and I are together and staying in Atlantis. What happens when his luck will finally run out? What will happen when he’ll be forced to order me to leave him to die on a Wraith hive about to crash or at the hands of some vengeful natives on some god forsaken planet? Will we be happy then?” Lorne asked bitterly. That was a part of the reason they put in place the fraternization regulations. He had no idea what would happen if he would ever be ordered to do something like that.

Of course, that wasn’t the issue. Their careers would be doomed long before that, and Atlantis could be in serious danger if either of them is crippled by emotions and can’t perform his duty.

Zelenka looked at him with his uncovered, frank eyes. “Do you really think that if he was to die now it would hurt less than if you resisted and didn’t allow this bond to happen?” Zelenka asked quietly.

Lorne knew that it would hurt no matter where he’d be or what he’d do. “No. But that wasn’t the question. The question was the safety of Atlantis and our ability to perform our duties if the fate of the person we love is hanging in the balance,” Lorne corrected tiredly. He felt drained and without strength to even argue his point across.

“Evan,” Zelenka’s hand squeezed his until Lorne looked at him. “The fate of the person you love is already at the balance every day, and Atlantis still stands. You don’t need to be with Colonel Sheppard to love him, just like he doesn’t need to be with you to love you,” Zelenka said softly.

Lorne knew it. He knew it, now that Zelenka had said it, but at the moment he was so confused and so weary that he had no idea what he should do. He put his head on the table and closed his tired eyes while Zelenka’s gentle hands rubbed soothing circles on his back.

 

#### 

Zelenak’s words were like a prophecy.

Zelenka managed to get Lorne to go back to his quarters and sleep, eventually. Lorne was so tired that he fell asleep as soon as his body was completely horizontal, without even bothering taking off his clothes or boots. When he woke up next, it was already well past breakfast.

He took a quick shower, shaved, changed and headed for one of the practice rooms where he was supposed meet with several of the international marines who wanted to learn Jaffa combat techniques. He was almost late as it was so he simply drank a cup of herbal tea to refresh himself and jugged all the way to his destination as warm-up.

González, Schröder, Arnault and Fuwa were already there, chatting amiably amongst themselves and doing some lazy warm-up. They all smiled at Lorne when they saw him.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Fuwa greeted, smiling at him. Lorne smiled back.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. How was the patrol yesterday, Schröder?” Lorne inquired. He always made it a point to ask after the international military members, who weren’t a part of Stargate operations before coming to Atlantis.

“Uneventful, sir. Lucky me, huh?” Schröder replied, smiling.

“That’s good to hear,” Lorne took out a long staff from the barrel at the far corner of the room, the last that remained as the other four were already in the hands of the marines, and stood ready on the mattress.

“Okay. Let’s start by repeating what we’ve learned the last time, about using both ends of your staff in one fluent motion to stop an approaching opponent. Arnault, you’re up,” Lorne twisted his staff a few times in his hands to get his wrists accustomed to the motion until Arnault came to stand before him.

“Remember: fluent motions, you use the momentum of your first-” Lorne turned back when he heard the unique hydraulic sound of the door opening, and went silent.

“Everyone out, _now_!” Sheppard was standing in the doorway, a crystal similar to that of the door controls in his hand and an ominous expression on his face.

The marines, surprised and unsure, looked at Lorne nervously. “Okay. I’ll repeat that so that it’ll be clear. Everyone out, now, _or you’ll all be court-martialed for disobeying a direct order!_” Sheppard growled, voice tight and harsh and rising in his anger.

The four marines hurried out of the room, and Sheppard slammed his fist against the crystals inside the room to get the door to close after them. Lorne was sure that if this was an ordinary door, it would’ve been slammed shut so hard it would fall apart, Sheppard looked that angry.

Sheppard threw the crystal in his hand to the floor carelessly and advanced towards Lorne, snagging two short Athosian Banto rods from the barrel by the door on his way. Lorne felt a shudder go down his back, and took a step backwards. Sheppard’s expression was so dark and dangerous he looked like there was a cloud hanging over him.

Sheppard was as quick as lightning, stepping up to Lorne and with one forceful blow knocking the staff out of his hand. The next thing Lorne knew his world was spinning and he found himself lying on his back with Sheppard’s rods crossed over his throat. Sheppard himself was straddling Lorne’s chest, his eyes boring intensely into Lorne’s.

“I’ve had enough. Now tell me what the hell is going on with you!?” Sheppard’s voice was low and rough, his face only mere inches from Lorne’s.

“What?” Lorne asked, confused.

Sheppard’s eyes flashed and his lips pulled back on his teeth. “Don’t play games with me, Major, I’m not in the mood,” he growled. “What the hell is going on with you? Ever since you returned from M2N-856 I haven’t seen you set foot in the office. I know that you’ve been working from Zelenka’s lab and I thought that it’s temporary, that you simply felt like it. But that doesn’t explain why I’m receiving emails from you in the middle of the damn night!” Sheppard accused, breathing hard in Lorne’s face.

Lorne’s eyes widened. With Zelenka distracting him last night, he accidentally sent his intelligence report to Sheppard and Carter. He never sent anything in the middle of the night because their exchange server displayed the hour in which letters were sent and received.

Sheppard looked at Lorne with rapt attention, and Lorne knew he saw the understanding dawning in Lorne’s eyes. “Yeah. That’s right. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t notice that you’re avoiding me like a plague? Now tell me what the hell I’ve done to deserve this treatment!?” Sheppard demanded.

Lorne swallowed and looked down. He had no chance to throw Sheppard away. Sheppard followed his gaze, and was grim and determined when Lorne looked back up into his eyes. “I will get an answer from you today, Lorne,” he clarified, stressing his words by leaning on the crossed rods. They weren’t pressing Lorne’s throat directly, simply keeping him in place, and he was grateful for that.

Lorne was quiet. He knew this moment would come, and he knew he needed to tell Sheppard everything that had happened from the time they fell asleep in the Jumper together onwards. But he still had no idea how to do it. He wished that Sheppard would have the sense to connect the events of the night Lorne drew Sheppard’s portrait and now so that he wouldn’t have to explain everything, but the mission to M2N-856 was long and got in the way of the sequence of events.

“I have no problems whatsoever staying here for the rest of the day, Lorne. No one will interrupt us because I took out the control crystal from the other side of the door. Now you can either tell me what your problem with me is or we can stare at each other until they come looking for us,” Sheppard threatened.

Lorne sighed. The time was now. Never wasn’t really an option.

“It happened after you rescued me from MT7-233,” Lorne began, looking into Sheppard’s eyes. Sheppard’s face remained unchanged but his eyes showed dismay when Lorne began talking. “You were practically falling off your feet with fatigue. We went to sleep together, alone in the forward section, and I had a nightmare. I woke up, and you must’ve slept close enough that my waking up caused you to wake up as well.

“You were still half asleep. You asked me what was wrong, I told you I had a nightmare. Then you hugged me from behind, kissed my neck and told me that I’m safe in your arms because you would never let anything happen to me,” Lorne said. “You called my name twice,” he added, to prevent the upcoming denial session.

When he started his recollection the crease between Sheppard’s brows deepened, but as he finished and Sheppard’s eyes widened with shock it disappeared entirely.

Sheppard’s face blenched and his eyes were full of barely-contained panic. “I…” he started, and swallowed hard. Lorne could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I see…” Sheppard said dazedly, starting to withdraw and removing the pressure that kept Lorne in place almost as if burned.

Lorne’s temper suddenly flared. “Do you?” he asked sharply, catching Sheppard’s hands and forcing them to still, forcing Sheppard to remain as he was before, restraining Lorne. Sheppard looked at him, frightened and apprehended. It was unbecoming of him, but Lorne didn’t really care at the moment. Sheppard claimed he understood. It was a figure of speech, but it was so wrong that it made Lorne’s reason disappear.

“You don’t see, that’s the problem!” Lorne said, voice rising. “You’re so busy worrying about me not knowing that you have a crush on me that you don’t even see that not only I already know and don’t have a problem with it, I want you as equally as you want me! And this is only the _intro_ to ‘what I have a problem with’!” Lorne’s voice rose in anger and he pushed Sheppard’s wrists back until Sheppard rolled away from him and landed on his back on the mattress.

Sheppard sat back up and stared at Lorne, stunned. Lorne sat up as well, took a deep breath to calm himself down, and returned a look for a look.

“So you’re doing it both ways?” Sheppard asked eventually, disbelieving.

Lorne gave a bitter bark of laughter. “Me? No, I’m corrupted all the way,” he said.

Sheppard was silent for a long time, looking down at the mattress. Lorne knew that he was now looking at the past months with a new understanding of things. He had no idea what to say next, out of all the things he wanted to, so he remained quiet as well.

Eventually Sheppard looked up, his brow creased once more. “If we’re on the same page here,” he began slowly, finger moving bach and forth between the two of them, “How come we’re not having wild sex right now? Or for the last three months, for that matter?” Sheppard asked.

Lorne looked at him, feeling resentful and sullen. “Because you’re my commanding officer, _sir_,” he stressed. “I don’t want to compromise the safety of Atlantis if I’m unable to perform my duties because of my feelings for you, and I don’t want to ruin either of our careers.”

Sheppard looked at him with eyes that had gone narrow all of a sudden. “This is why you’ve been acting strange lately? Because you want me but you’re afraid that us being together would put Atlantis in danger?” Sheppard echoed.

“Yes,” Lorne confirmed.

“That’s absurd!” Sheppard said hotly.

“Is it?” Lorne asked, equally enraged. “I can’t guarantee that I would do my best to protect the city if I’m with you and your life is at stake. I simply can’t guarantee it!” he spat hotly.

Sheppard’s face darkened. “Then you might as well quit now because if you were honest about wanting me then being with me or not won’t change the way you feel. Either way you’re compromising the city!”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of that either!” Lorne shouted back, angry at hearing Zelenka’s words coming out of Sheppard’s mouth and angry at the truth in them.

Sheppard’s back straightened and his expression turned hard. “I will fight you every step of the way,” he promised lowly.

“Even if that’s what I want?” Lorne retorted.

“But. It. Isn’t,” Sheppard asserted. His eyes bore into Lorne’s and eventually Lorne nodded. Sheppard then adopted a stubborn tilt to his chin and a determined light to his eyes.

“We’ll simply have to set a few ground rules,” he said, still sharp but calmer. “I would never be able to live with myself if you’d choose my life over saving the city, no matter what the outcome is in the end is. I fully expect you to follow my every command when we’re on duty, and I fully expect you to make the rational and _right_ choices in situations where my life is at stake. Not because it’s the way we should be acting but because_ I could never live with myself otherwise_,” Sheppard stressed. They got up and were standing close together, staring each other down. 

“I can’t promise I’d do the right, or humane, thing every time. If I’d have to choose between your life and that of, say, two villagers I would choose you. Not only because I have feelings for you but also because you are an invaluable, irreplaceable asset to Atlantis. Can you live with me making such decisions? Based on such considerations? Because these are the sort of things I would take into account when forced to make a choice, and that includes my feelings.” Lorne challenged.

It was true. This was the decision he would make if he would have to choose. He had no sacrificial tendencies like Sheppard had, and he couldn’t shake his feelings entirely, no matter how hard he’d try. If it was humanly possible, he wasn’t built for it.

Sheppard didn’t even appear to be considering this. “As long as you’ll remember that my primary goal in Atlantis is to keep it up and running and protected, _at all costs_, I’m fine with whatever decision you’ll make,” he said finally. “And if you need an incentive, think about how you would feel if I’d choose to save you over preventing the Wraith from overrunning the infirmary or the mess hall,” he added nastily. Lorne frowned and looked down, knowing that he would rather kill himself than be the reason his people were dead.

“I’ll remember that,” he said, subdued. They were both in a similar position and they both went through the same things, so on a certain level Lorne could relate to Sheppard’s feelings. He only hoped that when the time comes he would be able to do so.

He suddenly realized that he and Sheppard were negotiating the terms of their relationship. “Wait a minute. So suppose that we can find a way to keep Atlantis safe. What about our careers? I know that you’re still amazed that you made it past Captain and I signed for the military and sacrificed any personal life I could have had to be where I am now. Acting upon this crush of ours and it’s all over. I don’t want to leave Atlantis and I know that you don’t either, but if this is discovered we’ll both be forced to! This is not just a homosexual relationship but fraternization as well!” he argued, his anger back. It wasn’t fair, standing and talking about things that could never happen.

Sheppard stepped into his personal space, threatening and angry. “This is not a ‘crush’,” he spat the words at Lorne, voice low and intense.

“Then what is it?” Lorne demanded, looking straight into Sheppard’s eyes, so close to his own he could see a pattern on his irises.

Sheppard held his gaze for a moment before looking sideways. Lorne knew that this would happen, knew that Sheppard didn’t do feelings, but couldn’t help but feel crushing disappointment nevertheless.

He was about to talk, to reprove Sheppard about the stupidity in this entire discussion, when Sheppard turned back to him and his eyes sought Lorne’s. Sheppard’s expression was unreadable but his entire body fidgeted and he seemed uncomfortable in his own skin.

He continued regardless. “I love you,” Sheppard said in a guarded voice, shocking Lorne to the core. Lorne knew that this was one of very few times Sheppard would ever say those words aloud, and a part of him felt crazy elation at the knowledge. Sheppard looked embarrassed and cleared his throat before speaking again. “As for my career, I think that this is a decision only I can make, and I’ve already made it. The real question is whether _you’re_ willing to make the same one,” he said, calmer.

It was Lorne’s turn to bow his head, though he could still see Sheppard in his peripheral vision. Being handed what he wanted wasn’t something Lorne encountered a lot during his military service. And being given permission to have this amazing man was nothing short of a miracle. The only thing that stood in the way was Lorne’s integrity, and he wasn’t sure he was such an honorable man.

“Do you really want the two of us to spend the rest of whatever time we have left here in Atlantis – which could be a very long period of time – avoiding each other and wanting each other without ever having what we want?” Sheppard asked.

“And do you really want to have a relationship where you’re always sneaking around, afraid to get caught, always looking over your shoulder and always wondering if someone might have noticed?” Lorne countered. Sheppard was not gay. He was bi with an obvious preference to women. He didn’t know the rules of the military closet.

Sheppard looked at Lorne steadily. “I know what it’ll be like. And I know what it can cost me. I’m willing to pay that price. You still haven’t told me whether you’re willing to as well,” he said calmly.

Lorne had no doubt that he was too. Once again, falling in love with Sheppard was the easiest thing in the world.

Lorne knew Sheppard. He was stubborn and consistent. If he said that he was willing to risk his own career to be with Lorne, then even Lorne’s refusal to his offer wouldn’t make him take it back. It wasn’t like Lorne’s refusal could help him protect Sheppard. And both Zelenka and Sheppard were right. Already in love, Lorne’s actions and feelings would remain the same whether he’s with Sheppard or not.

And as for his career? It’s all down the hill from here. He’d peaked. Leaving here… he’d been through it once when the Ancients returned to reclaim their city and had no desire to go through it again.

Lorne took a deep breath, about to break rules and ignore regulations he firmly believed in for a chance to have what Sheppard was offering to give him. He knew that there were countless of arguments against doing what he was about to do, and he knew that he already knew all of them, but right now he couldn’t remember even a single one. 

“I’m willing,” Lorne looked straight into Sheppard’s eyes and saw them lighting up when Sheppard smiled.

Sheppard stepped back, smiling warmly at him. “Good,” he said happily, beaming at Lorne. Lorne expected to be jumped at, but Sheppard simply looked as happy as if he’d just discovered a stash of big Ancient space guns under his bed. “Come to my quarters tonight, if there’s no emergency, at…” he glanced at his chronometer, “2530? We’ll have a beer, watch a movie and start off nice and slow. I’ll even make a salad,” he added temptingly.

Lorne simply stared at him, confused. He was expecting to be out of his clothes and rolling on the mattress with Sheppard by now. Making such moderated plans was a surprise.

Sheppard’s smile died and his face turned serious. “You’re not my fuck-buddy, Lorne. I don’t want to treat you like one,” he said.

Lorne had no doubt that he wasn’t a fuck-buddy. But the fact that Sheppard was aware of his own reputation and wanted to make this relationship different already made him feel special and filled him with warmth.

“Evan,” Lorne said, smiling.

Now it was Sheppard’s turn to look confused. “What?”

“Evan. My name is Evan. When we’re alone call me by my name,” Lorne explained.

Sheppard smiled once again, body relaxing and a cocky expression crossing his face. Lorne wondered how he could look like he hadn’t a doubt in the world that Lorne would say yes, when Lorne himself had every intention of refusing. “Okay. Evan,” he said, the name rolling from his lips with an almost unnatural confidence. “My quarters at 2530?”

Lorne nodded. “I’m looking forward to the salad,” he replied.

Sheppard merely grinned and turned away. He picked up the crystal he had discarded at the beginning of their conversation, opened the door and replaced it in its proper slot. Then, with a final smile at Lorne, he walked away.

Lorne slide down the wall to sit on the mattress amongst the scattered rods. He wondered whether he’d just won the greatest prize or made the worst mistake of his life. He needed time to think things through, and he had plenty of it until 2530.

 

####

 

Lorne left his quarters and stood in the hallway for a second, taking a deep breath. He had showered, shaved, was dressed in a dark black-blue jeans and a blue polo shirt, and had a feeling that it said ‘first date’ on his forehead. He wasn’t nervous, but he was uncertain. He had no idea what a date with John Sheppard would be like, though beer and a movie and even a salad seemed like a nice start.

In the end, it didn’t matter what happened with Atlantis. They would both give their lives away to protect the city and its occupants, even if Lorne would think twice about sacrificing himself or Sheppard over anything else. And it didn’t matter what happened with their careers as well. Lorne was already thinking of reassignment, so it would be over either way. Being on the Atlantis expedition was the height of anyone’s career. Being anywhere else would never be the same.

If he would have had a week to think about it, he would have still chosen to be with the man he loved over any other alternative. He had a life here, and he had a chance for love here. Refusing that love would end his career just as accepting that love could. If his career is over, he at least wanted to have Sheppard by his side.

Even from a rational point of view, he had little options. If he refused, he would be the one forced to leave. He would never try to strip Sheppard of his command and even if he would, Sheppard’s record spoke volumes for his alleged heterosexuality. Lorne’s – not nearly as loud.

He was lucky, he figured, that his only option was also the option he wanted most.

Lorne walked down to hallway to Sheppard’s door and hit the crystal to ring the bell.

Sheppard answered the door with cream-colored cargo pants and a gray-green t-shirt. His hair was still damp from the shower but also still as messy as ever, and his feet were bare. He smiled broadly at Lorne and gestured with his hand for him to come in, closing the door after him.

“Hi, Evan,” Sheppard said warmly, smiling a boyish, almost shy smile and moving towards Lorne. He placed a hand on Lorne’s hip and dropped a chaste kiss on Lorne’s cheek. It was short enough that by the time Lorne realized what was happening it was over, but long enough that the sensation of Sheppard’s soft lips burned at his skin and the smell of Sheppard’s aftershave tickled his nose.

Lorne smiled. It was endearing, in a way, to see Sheppard go to such length to take this slow. He placed his hand on Sheppard’s shoulder when Sheppard began to draw away and kissed Sheppard’s prickling cheek in return. “Hello, John” he said against Sheppard’s skin, more at ease than he was when he came in.

It was a reaffirmation of their earlier conversation. They were both here because they felt the same thing for the other, and were willing to give up the same things for the other.

Sheppard’s smile turned more confident. He turned from Lorne and gestured at his room. “Welcome to my humble home,” he announced, and Lorne took stock of it. The bed was narrow, the kind that most of the original expedition members got used to sleeping on, and surprisingly tidy under the open window. Right above it was a strange Ancient metal pattern in brown that held Sheppard’s battered _War and Peace_ copy and a few _Time_ and _Popular Mechanics_ magazines. The elongate bedside table hosted a lamp, a little model of an airplane and a jug of water. Above it was a Johnny Cash poster, the famous one with Cash in black and holding his guitar.

“It’s not unlike mine, you know. Minus the strange Ancient thing over the bed,” Lorne commented while Sheppard padded over to the fridge, took out a bottle of _Budweiser_ and offered it to Lorne. Lorne accepted with a smile. His fridge was always stocked with foreign beer, but he did American when needed to.

“Yeah, I kinda figured it was nice. Unique,” Sheppard said. He waved his hand at a chair and returned to what he did before Lorne knocked, which was cutting a salad out of local vegetables. When he saw Lorne’s raised eyebrows he smiled and waved the knife.

“Watch and learn, kitchen disaster,” Sheppard teased, cutting into a red pineapple-like vegetable called Malis with surprising skill.

“So I’m dating a closet chef?” Lorne teased, leaning against the counter close to Sheppard instead of sitting in the offered chair.

“I don’t burn the house down trying to make scrambled eggs, if that’s what you mean,” Sheppard shrugged, casting the red pieces into a large glass bowl.

Lorne chuckled. “Well, I do, so keep me away from those,” he waved his bottle at Sheppard’s impromptu kitchen, and turned to look at Sheppard’s table, where his laptop was standing ready with a CD case filled with movies.

“Well, I guess it’s good that you have other redeeming qualities then,” Sheppard said slyly, proceeding to peal the skin off of the intricate body of a big chunk of Vigan.

“You mean other than the incredible foot massage I can give?”

Sheppard looked up at him, an uncomfortable smile adoring his face. “You have no idea what that massage did to me,” he confessed. Lorne simply grinned.

“I know exactly what it did to you. It’s you that has no idea what I later did in my room because of you,” Lorne countered him. Sheppard’s eyes lit up with interest and his smile turned smug.

“I’ll have you telling me all about it later,” he promised. Lorne was sure he would.

This was nice, Lorne decided. Calm, ordinary, with just the barest hint of sexual tension. Lorne had had worse than this. But as nice as it was, he needed to know something.

“John, since when are you in love with me?” Lorne asked. He wanted to ask something like ‘why do you love me’, but he knew who he was dealing with and knew that it would embarrass Sheppard. He didn’t want their first date to be awkward when it started so pleasant.

Sheppard stopped what he was doing and stared at the cutting board for a minute, deep in thoughts. He then turned to Lorne fully, looking into his eyes. He had a serious expression on his face, and Lorne was more curious than ever.

“I found your dog tags on the desk at the office one day. Do you remember coming back to the office and finding me with your tags in my hand? Your chain snapped so you went to your room to get a new one,” Sheppard looked at Lorne, waiting.

“Yeah. I remember. I was at the office alone but when I returned you were there as well,” Lorne said, remembering. It was such an insignificant event, and occurred well over half a year ago, that Lorne wondered why Sheppard was bringing it up now.

“Yeah. Your tags…” Sheppard hesitated, “They looked exactly as they did when we found them on a burned Genii body after you were kidnapped. Made me think of how I thought you’d died. But it wasn’t the same as then.” Sheppard broke away from Lorne’s gaze and rubbed his hand awkwardly over his nape. “It’s stupid, I know. But it made me think about you and…” he shrugged, uncomfortable.

Lorne smiled. He got his answer, and it was a damn good one. He didn’t want to push his luck. Looking at the wall behind Sheppard’s desk, he spotted the portrait he drew of Sheppard.

“Liked the portrait?” he asked, casually. A change of topic would get Sheppard to relax once more. They were supposed to take this slow.

Sheppard looked at him, dismayed. He then looked at the portrait and a half-smile tugged at his lips. His body relaxed once more. “Actually, I do. I always thought that I would look funny or not like myself, but… this portrait is very good. I _can_ see myself in it,” he said enthusiastically, picking another chunk of Vigan and chopping it into the bowl.

Lorne smirked. “I got to say, I think that’s the best payment I’ve ever received on a single portrait,” he teased, taking a gulp of beer.

Sheppard’s back went straight with smug pride. Lorne would have to get used to it, he supposed. Or maybe he already had. 

“Did you finish that painting of Atlantis you were working on?” Sheppard asked, looking out of the window to where the north pier could be seen.

Lorne smiled ruefully. The truth was, he hadn’t even thought about that painting since his last encounter with Sheppard. He probably wouldn’t be in the mood to paint even if he had, though now he felt like taking his brushes once more. “I didn’t. I’m thinking of making the finishing touches tomorrow night. Care to join me?” he invited. He thought about it only now, at the spur of the moment, but it sounded nice. Stars, moons, beer, painting and talking. Taking it slow, having fun.

Sheppard raised a brow at him. “You mean you haven’t heard about the meteor shower tomorrow?” he asked. Lorne, of course, hadn’t.

“I didn’t really have the time or the mindset to listen to idle gossips this past week,” he said, straightforward. He knew that they wouldn’t talk about it now, just like they weren’t going to talk about the things that made Sheppard fall in love with Lorne, but Sheppard’s eyes turned hard and upset for a moment.

“Well, apparently there’s a meteor shower every year on this planet. They’re supposed to pass our outer atmosphere and give us a nice show. There was a mail regarding it a few days back while you were off-world, something about the asteroids making the atmosphere ionized so we’re raising the shield just to be on the safe side. It’ll be the perfect opportunity to have some undisturbed down time. I was thinking maybe we’d watch it together,” Sheppard explained, recovering from his momentary displeasure. He reached for Lorne’s beer and stole a sip, smiling charmingly at him as he returned the bottle.

“I’d like that,” Lorne agreed amiably, smiling at Sheppard and reaching into the bowl to steal a piece of Vigan in retribution, but Sheppard was quicker and his strong fingers locked onto Lorne’s wrist, holding him in place.

“Ah ah, no nibbling before everything’s ready,” Sheppard admonished, amused. He didn’t let go of Lorne’s wrist until Lorne relinquished his vegetable. Lorne would have found it childish if he wasn’t standing so close to Sheppard and if he hadn’t noticed the way Sheppard’s entire body language seemed to change from tense and on guard this afternoon to calm and at ease now.

“Cheat,” Lorne tugged his hand free and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking noisily on the tart juice that stuck on them. He was going to continue his teasing of Sheppard when he realized what he was doing and that Sheppard was following his every move with rapt attention.

This was exactly why he never could escape those sexually tensed moments with Sheppard before. Sheppard had a knack for putting Lorne at ease, and he did so even on their first date. But now the rules were different.

Smiling against his fingers, Lorne asked, “Like what you see?”

“Oh, yes, very much,” Sheppard answered in a husky voice, his hand tugging the bottle of beer out of Lorne’s hand and then circling his hips. Lorne allowed himself to be pulled forward closer to Sheppard and his hand came to rest on Sheppard’s thigh, feeling the long limb and strong muscle underneath.

Sheppard’s other hand rose to hold Lorne’s nape, fingers combing up into his short hair and tugging him forward and up to meet Sheppard’s lips.

Lorne felt a thrill of excitement shooting up his belly. Sheppard’s lips were soft and agile, caressing Lorne’s sensually while Sheppard’s stubble burned against his skin. His hand on Lorne’s hip caressed its way up Lorne’s back and made him arch against Sheppard’s body.

They drew apart after a short time, looking into each other’s eyes. Lorne smiled, because he couldn’t help it after sharing a kiss with Sheppard, and licked his lips.

Sheppard’s smile was wane, his eyes darkening as they followed Lorne’s tongue. “You really ought to stop doing that,” he murmured and leaned forward once more.

This time Sheppard’s lips encouraged Lorne’s mouth to open, and Sheppard’s tongue sneaked inside. It was gentle still, not a rampage of hormones but an initial exploration. Sheppard’s tongue mapped Lorne’s mouth and Sheppard’s hands moved over Lorne’s face, in his hair and over his back and hips. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that would make Lorne aroused, but the kind that would warm him and turn him boneless with pleasure. 

Lorne enjoyed the kiss thoroughly. Sheppard was a good kisser who had a knack for spotting the things that brought his partner pleasure. There was no hesitation in his actions, only sure hands and an even surer mouth. His taste was earthy from the beer and rich with something that was unique and masculine and which Lorne instantly liked. Lorne sucked on the thick tongue in his mouth, allowing his breath to come out as a slow exhalation against the nose that bumped his.

When they parted with a soft wet sound Sheppard looked embarrassed. “So much for taking this slow,” he murmured against Lorne’s skin where he was nuzzling Lorne’s cheek and inhaling deeply in an attempt to regulate his breathing.

Lorne, hands around Sheppard’s shoulders still, began to gently let go. He pushed Sheppard until he could look into his eyes and smile back at him. “I have no problem with taking it slow, John. But I’m not a monk,” he teased.

Sheppard burst out laughing. The same long, barking laughter that was so rare from him. It made Lorne feel proud to have caused it every time Sheppard would laugh like this with him alone and not his team. Maybe Sheppard’s ego wasn’t the only one they’d have to deal with.

When Sheppard calmed down a little, he looked at Lorne and shook his head fondly. “You’re the worst make-out partner anyone could ever ask for,” he said, his hand reaching towards Lorne’s head, and Lorne felt fingers combing his hair.

“Unlike you, my hair’s simple and normal and actually follows the military regs,” Lorne scoffed, but didn’t bat the hand away.

“Well, following regs or not, you look like you just emerged from a heated make-out session,” Sheppard said, full of himself. “Hair sticking out in all directions. All I did was mess it up a little,” he complained good-naturedly.

“You look like that all the time. Something I need to know?” Lorne retorted. Sheppard snorted.

“That’s your department from now on,” he replied playfully, picking up his knife. Lorne picked up his beer. “We’re almost ready. Which movie do you want us to watch?”

Lorne went to Sheppard’s table where the CD case was placed and took it in his hand. Funny how his lips kept itching but he didn’t feel an overwhelming desire to push Sheppard up against the wall and kiss his breath away. Taking it slow, he decided once more, was nice.

Lorne began to leaf through the CDs: _The Princess Bride, Alien, Back to the Future, Batman, Star Wars, Jaws, Spiderman, Blades of Glory_…

The Ancient doorbell chimed.

Lorne looked at Sheppard questioningly. “Expecting someone?” he asked, serious.

Sheppard looked grave and unhappy when he answered, “No,” and Lorne couldn’t blame him. A chime off-duty usually meant trouble.

Lorne expected Sheppard to turn to the door, but instead Sheppard approached him with a crooked smile. His fingers combed through Lorne’s hair once more before he stepped back to review his handiwork.

Lorne raised his brows at him. “I thought you had my hair lying flat once again?”

Sheppard smirked. “I like you a bit tousled,” he confessed and went to open his door. Lorne took his beer in his hand and tried to look like he was there to watch a movie. Which he was, amongst other things.

The door opened to reveal Carter.

Lorne couldn’t see Sheppard’s face, but he could hear his warm and slightly surprised exclamation of, “Sam!”

“Hi, John,” Carter said, stepping inside when Sheppard waved a hand at her. She then noticed Lorne and paused. “Major Lorne,” she greeted, surprised.

“Ma’am,” Lorne replied in kind. He was still leaning against the table with his beer in his hand, and didn’t bother stretching to attention. Carter had made it clear that off-duty meant off-duty in every sense of the word while Atlantis was under her command.

“Am I interrupting something?” Carter asked, turning from Lorne to Sheppard with a creased brow. Sheppard merely shrugged.

“Movie night,” he said. “Beer, salad, nothing special,” from his mouth it sounded so casual that Lorne had to smile.

“Didn’t know you could cook.”

“If you call cutting a few vegetables cooking. Uh, you needed something? Beer, salad?” Sheppard asked, indicating his tiny kitchen area. Carter looked amused.

“No. Actually I was on my way to the northern observatory balcony when McKay radioed me and told me I needed to see something. Since I was in the area I thought that you might want to come along. But I see you’re busy, so…” she trailed off, smiling apologetically to Lorne.

“Did he say what it was? Said that it was urgent?” Sheppard inquired. “The words ‘imminent death’ popped up at any part of the conversation?”

Carter snickered. “No. Didn’t sound like something alarming or dangerous,” she said. “Although McKay’s idea of imminent death is being in the same room as a lemon,” she added thoughtfully.

“That’s why I always carry one around,” Sheppard replied with a winning smile and turned to look at Lorne. Lorne knew that he wanted to go, and couldn’t see the harm of it himself. They had the entire night ahead of them, and maybe they would even get to see something cool. He gave Sheppard a tiny nod.

Sheppard turned to Carter once more. “Give us, what… five minutes?” he looked questioningly at Lorne, who nodded again. “And we’ll be good to go.”

Carter nodded and went out to wait for them in the atrium. Sheppard put his unfinished salad in the fridge, along with Lorne’s beer. He then straightened and escorted Lorne to the door.

“You do know that you’re not getting away, do you?” Sheppard asked, half in jest and half serious. Lorne simply caressed his cheek, not unlike the way he did when he painted Sheppard’s portrait.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered sincerely.


	8. Chapter 8

Five minutes after the interruption Carter, Sheppard and Lorne were walking down the hall towards the transporter, with Sheppard and Lorne dressed in their uniforms and strapping on their M9s.

“So, which movie were you planning on seeing?” Carter asked from where she was walking between them.

“Well, I voted for _The Abyss_, but Lorne kept insisting on _Gone With The Wind_,” Sheppard answered, completely serious.

“He’s lying, Ma’am,” Lorne supplied calmly. Carter laughed.

“Hey, what happened to backing me up?” Sheppard asked, indignant.

“I’d walk with you to hell and back, sir, but I draw the line at Scarlet O’Hara.”

Carter turned to him. “Oh, I smell a story there, Major,” she said brightly, all smiles and white teeth.

“It was my mom’s favorite movie, Ma’am,” Lorne explained. They got into the transporter and Carter touched the right dot on the display console. A bright flash of light later and Lorne continued. “I can’t even begin to count the number of times I heard it play from our living room.”

Carter smiled, and Sheppard looked at her conspiringly. “I don’t suppose you have a copy of that, do you?” he asked, casting a playful look in Lorne’s direction. Lorne simply smirked back. If he would be forced to watch that movie, Sheppard would be there with him from the beginning right to ‘tomorrow is another day’. And there would be no making out in the middle. 

Carter laughed. “No. I-”

“Do you even realize what you’ve just done, you irresponsible, incompetent, utterly useless idiot!?” McKay’s voice drifted over to them. Lorne and Sheppard looked at each other, and Lorne could almost hear the ‘oh, no’ that passed silently between them. They could say goodbye to a nice evening together. McKay was prone to insulting other people’s intelligence, but he did so in length only when there was a true emergency.

They hurried after Carter up the stairs and piled into the control room to see McKay towering over a bespectacled, flushed man in his mid-thirties. “Have you even been to kindergarten? That’s the place where there’s this annoying woman who sings annoying songs with the sole purpose of teaching you how to count!”

Carter stepped in, putting a hand on McKay’s arm. “Rodney, what’s wrong?” she asked, tense and serious.

McKay whirled around to look at her. “This clown here doesn’t even know how to count, that’s what’s wrong! For three days this complete idiot’s been seeing this huge extra asteroid and only now he’s telling me about it!” he turned to the other scientist.

“We don’t keep those fancy instruments that can count the number of abnormally large objects in our immediate space for aesthetic purposes! What the hell did you think happened, the asteroids segmented or simply had sex!? You know what, forget it,” he snapped his fingers at the other scientist impatiently and pointed towards the transporter. The man didn’t even need spoken instructions, scurried away from the place with a face red with humiliation.

McKay then walked to the big plasma screen and fiddled with some of the controls. A representation of Atlantis’ solar system appeared, along with objects glowing red that marked the approaching asteroids. “Look. See this? This was the original cluster of asteroids that we’ve been monitoring for the last two months, one thousand and thirty three in number,” he pressed a button, and all of the rocks but one glowed blue. “And this?” he pointed to the remaining rock, “This is an asteroid that was located three days ago and that did not belong with the original cluster.”

Lorne could only think of one thing after hearing that.

“Oh, god. Not again,” Carter echoed his thoughts.

“Excuse me?” Sheppard asked, concerned. “’Not again’?”

“The Goa’uld once set an asteroid in a collision course with Earth to bypass the Asgard’s protected planets treaty,” Lorne supplied. Sheppard looked at him in a funny way.

“Just how many times were we facing death and destruction without anyone even knowing?” he asked, indignant.

“A lot. Look, it doesn’t matter right now. Unless Caldwell forgot to tell us something from his days with an over-the-top clichéd parasitical alien-” McKay snapped, but Carter cut him off.

“He didn’t. We hooked him to a Tok’ra memory device-”

“Then the Wraith must have thought of the same trick.” McKay finished.

“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves? Is the asteroid even _on_ a collision course with Atlantis?” Sheppard asked, hand making a soothing motion.

McKay turned to his computer and began typing furiously, glaring at his screen and berating Sheppard at the same time. “Of course it’s on a collision-” McKay broke off when something beeped on his terminal. “Huh,” he said, surprised.

“Huh?” Lorne echoed. McKay had the most annoying tendency to act as though everyone could read his mind sometimes.

“It’s not on a collision course with Atlantis. Actually it wouldn’t even pass in the planet’s atmosphere,” McKay said, looking at the three of them with bafflement

“Are you completely sure that this asteroid is new to the cluster? It could be a data error, or the sensors not picking it up due to interference?” Carter asked.

“The same people who built the Stargate network in dozens of galaxies built these sensors. What, you trust them to disintegrate you and reintegrate you on a daily basis but you don’t trust them to detect a little asteroid?” McKay asked irritably.

“McKay!”

“Yes! Yes, I’m positive. Beyond the unquestionable accuracy of the Ancient sensors the new asteroid’s make-up doesn’t match the original cluster. There’s something strange about it that’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” McKay replied, on edge.

“What’s strange about it?” Sheppard asked.

“I’m sorry, did you miss the part where I clearly said that I’ve never seen something like this before? Gee, I guess you did, because you’re standing here asking stupid questions _instead of letting me find out what’s going on!_” McKay snapped.

Sheppard’s back had gone rigid, but he simply stared at McKay, hands folded over his chest. To Lorne’s surprise, McKay’s glare died and he bowed his head. “I’m sorry, alright? It’s just making me nervous, having this weird thing hovering towards us in space,” he muttered.

“Good. That’s better. Now, if none of the asteroids are on a collision course with us then could it be that the original cluster picked up a stray along the way and we’re worrying over nothing?” Sheppard asked, voice calm.

“Yeah, right. Since when is something that has anything to do with us turns out to be nothing?” McKay snorted, and Lorne, Sheppard and Carter all winced. It was too true to be a laughing matter.

“Rodney!” a voice called, and they all turned to see Zelenka hurrying down the stairs that led to the Jumper bay and observation decks. “I have the results you asked for,” he gasped breathlessly.

McKay regained his annoyance fairly quickly. “Well, are you going to tell me or do you want me to torture you first?” he asked sarcastically.

Zelenka paid him no mind. “The additional asteroid is made out of a combination of super-heavy elements and Naquadah. I had to calibrate the sensors, but eventually I’ve been able to determine that it’s also hollow inside,” Zelenka fixed his glasses on his sweaty nose, blue eyes worried.

“Hollow inside?” Carter echoed. “That can’t be!”

“No, it can’t. But there’s more. Disturbingly enough, the space inside the asteroid is the exact space you’d need to hide a Wraith cruiser,” he said, and the silence that enveloped the control room was so complete that Lorne could hear the ocean outside lapping at the city’s piers.

“That’s absurd!” McKay called, taking the memory card from Zelenka’s hand and hooking it into his computer. A minute later he leaned back, face white. “Oh no. He’s right!”

“Wait a minute!” Sheppard stepped forward, frowning ominously. “You want to tell me that there’s a Wraith cruiser hidden inside an asteroid heading our way? And we never detected it?” he demanded.

McKay and Zelenka looked at each other. “They had to have help getting the asteroid to join the cluster. We just need to go back and find it,” Zelenka told McKay.

“Yes, Yes, I’m already on it!” McKay whirled his chair to a different terminal, shooing Chuck along the way, and typed in a few commands. The images on the plasma screen changed from their solar system to their quarter of the galaxy and the asteroids began moving backwards, until…

“Stop it! That’s it right there!” Zelenka cried out. “Zoom in,” he added, and the image moved to reveal a planet labeled M92-680. “Look. Two weeks ago a Wraith hive ship visited this planet. We’ve been monitoring it with the deep space sensors, but it seemed like an ordinary culling. It landed and after a few hours it left. But look at the course it took before entering hyper-space. It intersects with the path of the original cluster of asteroids. It must have deployed the fake asteroid right before making the jump,” Zelenka explained.

“Thank you, Einstein. The most important thing is this. Even with the most careful of deployments they would still need something to help them align themselves with the original cluster. In space you have no resistance so even the slightest nudge could carry you on indefinitely. They must have had _days_ to fix their position until the cluster reached them, three days ago. And if I’m right…” McKay zoomed in on the lone asteroid that remained on screen a few thousand miles from M92-680 and press a key to filter the image.

The screen turned colorful. The blue colors were the deep space and the absolute zero temperature, Lorne knew, but around the asteroids were tiny crimson dots. “Oh, no,” McKay said, voice grave.

“Are those-” Carter began.

“The gas form of super-heavy elements burning. Yes,” McKay confirmed.

“What?” Lorne asked, because someone had to. Between Carter, McKay and Zelenka the science-babble could go on forever.

“In order to set the asteroid in motion at the right speed, direction and angle something must have been directing it, but we didn’t pick it up because they were obscured from the sensors due to the presence of super-heavy elements. They surround the asteroid like a thin layer of dusty cosmic shroud. Here in the picture they interact with something that changed the temperature around them. In this case it can only be the energy coming off of a rear thruster or some other similar thermal reaction,” Zelenka explained.

Lorne felt coldness creeping into him. “So what you’re saying is that those red spots are actually-”

“Darts navigating the asteroid into place, yes.” Zelenka answered.

“So there really is a Wraith cruiser inside that asteroid,” Sheppard stated quietly.

“Yes. Yes, there is,” McKay answered cuttingly anyway. “And they didn’t learn _that_ trick from the Goa’uld, either,” he added.

“No, they learned it from us,” Carter said, realization downing.

“What!?”

“It makes sense. Think about it, when you had to abandon the last planet Atlantis occupied you maneuvered an asteroid between the city and the Replicators’ satellite to shield you from the Replicators’ beam. A short time afterwards we headed for an all out attack on the Replicator home world. And we told Todd about our getaway to get him to help us with our plan,” she explained.

“You think Todd’s behind this?” Sheppard asked, incredulous. Lorne was uneasy with the strange bond of love-hate between Todd and Sheppard, but it was beneficial for both parties and no one asked his opinion anyway.

“Well, maybe not Todd himself, but the Wraith are divided into many small camps and groups, and his crew isn’t the most loyal we’ve ever met, right?” Carter replied.

“While I’m sure it’s enjoyable to speculate on who’s behind our impending doom this time, are we going to do something about it or not? Because staying alive is something I am personally very fond of!” McKay snapped, panicked.

Somehow the entire situation didn’t surprise Lorne. Life wasn’t fair. Of course the moment things seemed to be settling down, Atlantis would be in danger. But even so, he was still horrified at the sheer genius behind this current attack. It was unnerving to know that they faced such a smart enemy. A smart enemy decreases your chances of survival.

“Shouldn’t a salvo of drones be able to take care of this? You said so yourself, this fake asteroid isn’t going to enter our atmosphere,” Sheppard asked, already thinking of survival himself.

“I don’t think you comprehend just how completely _screwed_ we are here,” McKay’s voice broke on the words. “When these asteroids will pass our atmosphere it will temporarily become highly ionized. Rocks made out of super-heavy elements burning in the atmosphere will release gases that would change the electro-magnetic balance in our atmosphere and make us temporarily blind. And in temporarily I mean two hours. Right now the drones couldn’t reach the asteroids because they would run out of power before reaching their target. And by the time they’re in range it’ll be too late since we’ll be without sensors,” McKay explained anxiously.

“Okay, but you said that you know the course of the asteroids. I don’t need the damn sensors, just tell me where to shoot!” Sheppard argued.

“And if you miss? Besides, this fake asteroid has darts helping it along. They could move it out of range!” McKay countered, and Sheppard went silent.

“What about the Deadalus?” Lorne asked. “They should already by in Pegasus. They can use an Asgard beam to blow it out of the sky.”

“Even if they push their hyper-drive to the brink of explosion they wouldn’t make it here in less than three days. We don’t have that kind of time,” Zelenka explained.

Sheppard had a determined glint in his eyes. “That means that we’ll have to take the fight to them,” he said.

 

####

 

“So, how do we get rid of them?” Sheppard asked once all members of the senior staff, Teyla, Ronon and Stackhouse, head of security, were seated in the conference room.

“Actually that’s the easy part,” Carter grinned. “See, the Wraith used a Naquadah casing to shield their ship from our sensors, which would’ve been clever if it wasn’t also highly explosive. I’m assuming that this is why they’re staying at the outer edge of the cluster. Entering our atmosphere would not only burn away the casing of the ship. Because of the super-heavy elements surrounding the asteroid and the friction with our soon-to-be highly charged ionosphere, they would literally explode!”

“And take a quarter of this planet with them, according to the amount of Naquadah we’ve measured. Which… uh… you know, isn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things, but since it would most likely be _our_ quarter of the planet… well…” McKay’s hand waved vaguely in the air at that.

“So we have a time frame,” Lorne translated. “How long will it be before the asteroid is in a place that could jeopardize the city if it explodes?” he asked. He’d been doing this for the SGC for long enough to know which questions to ask. Sheppard shot him a questioning look, and he shrugged. This is what you get for working on Naquadah mining operations.

“As a matter of fact, not long,” Zelenka said. “Based on the amount of Naquadah in the asteroid’s casing it will be just over three hours before the asteroid will reach a place where exploding it will vaporize our atmosphere. We’ve discovered it in the nick of time, I’m afraid.”

Lorne grimaced. Beside him, Sheppard sat straighter.

“Do we even know what they’re here for?” Dr. Biro asked suddenly.

“Well, no, but they didn’t went through all this trouble simply to give candies to the children, did they?” McKay snapped.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just raise the shield?” Dr. Keller asked. She looked tired and stressed out, and Lorne couldn’t blame her. She had no idea what was happening except that it was really dangerous.

“That was what we were planning on doing before we detected this threat, but we have only one ZedPM and we have no way of knowing what the Wraith are planning. If they manipulate some of the asteroids to collide with the planet, the city will be obliterated instantaneously. Even if we still somehow miraculously manage to survive this then the planet will become unlivable. Mega tsunamis will flood the mainland and create unconceivable instabilities deeper into the ocean, and clouds of dust will cover the face of the planet and prevent the sun from penetrating through. No sun, the temperatures will drop, plants will freeze to death or won’t be able to perform photosynthesis, no photosynthesis no oxygen and… well, you get the picture,” McKay grimaced at the end of his explanation. Dr. Keller’s eyes went so wide it probably hurt.

“So what do we do? And how do we do it?” Sheppard asked, looking at McKay and Carter sitting at the other side of the conference table. He seemed positively disturbed.

“I want a visual confirmation first,” Carter said, and sighed. “But it’s unlikely that we’re mistaken. We’re fortunate that the same casing that prevented us from locating the Wraith’ subterfuge also hampers their sensors. They won’t be able to detect a Jumper coming, and you should be able to get on board the ship, get a Naquadah generator inside and get out relatively easily,” Carter was saying.

“Wait, won’t the blast cause the asteroids to change their course and head straight for us?” Dr. Keller asked, worried. “You said that the shield-”

“The Mark II Naquadah generator can generate an explosion of one hundred and twenty kilotons. If you add the enhancement the Naquadah casing will provide for us you get really big numbers that should destroy the entire cluster of asteroids. We won’t even see them when their remnants will pass inside our atmosphere because they’ll be so small,” Zelenka explained, like there was nothing to worry about.

But Lorne was translating it into battle plans. It meant that they would need time to get very far away from the ship before detonating the generator and that meant that they couldn’t simply leave the generator laying around. It would need to be hidden someplace deep inside the ship so as not to be discovered and neutralized or being sent off.

Sheppard looked at him, probably thinking the same thing.

“How far do we need to be to be safe from the explosion?” Sheppard asked.

“Uh… at least forty-eight miles,” McKay answered, grimacing. Sheppard grimaced as well.

“That’s far,” he said disparagingly. “The Jumper takes twenty minutes to pass such a long distance, even when pushing the engines.”

“What does that means?” Dr. Biro asked.

“It means that we need to hide the Naquadah generator somewhere it wouldn’t be discovered so that we’d have time to make our escape before blowing it off. It means going inside the ship,” Lorne explained heavily.

“How are you going to do that?”

“Dart bay, of course,” McKay was beginning to get impatient with the medical doctors asking questions.

“But I thought those cruisers had no dart bays!” Dr. Biro exclaimed finally, not really noticing McKay’s anger.

“Cruisers have dart bays. They’re small, yes, but still there! They can only host a couple dozens of darts as opposed to the hundred or so of a hive ship. Satisfied?” McKay snapped at Biro.

“I don’t see the problem. We go in, we hide the generator, we go out,” Ronon shrugged. “We’ve done this before.”

“Yes, and none of those times I remember fondly,” McKay muttered plaintively.

Carter cleared her throat. “You need to hide the device here,” she brought up schematics for a Wraith cruiser on her tablet and pointed to a ventilation shaft. “It’s a secondary shaft of the life support system,” she tapped her computer tablet and the schematics zoomed in. “The life support system of a cruiser is located here,” she pointed at a small room, “and it vents the oxygen through that main shaft to this intersection here,” she pointed at what seemed like a big web of pipes. “From there each shaft vents oxygen to another part of the cruiser. If you put the generator in one of those it wouldn’t be so obvious and it’ll buy you the time you need to fly to a safe distance,” she concluded.

“Except that this is in the dead middle of the ship,” Lorne pointed out.

“There’s another secondary shaft a short distance from the dart bay,” Carter pointed at another shaft.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” Sheppard said, satisfied. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as humanly possible,” McKay replied. “Even as it is we have fifty minutes of flight by Jumper just getting to the asteroid and our window is getting frightfully small,” he said.

“So you have fifty minutes there, twenty minutes to reach a safe distance and an hour and twenty minutes to enter, hide the device and get out. I don’t know what’s going to happen so Drs. Keller and Biro, I want you to prepare the infirmary for a multiple casualty event just in case,” Carter began distributing orders.

“Also, once the asteroid is destroyed all of the other asteroids will be destroyed as well and won’t cause our atmosphere to become ionized, but we’ll still be without the Ancient sensors. We can’t disable them since they’re all powered by the ZPM. Even they can’t stand such a massive electro-magnetic pulse, and the residual radiation will overload them temporarily.

“This means that we need to get Jumpers in the air. I want Jumpers all around the city. If we’re going to be temporarily blind then we’ll need an alternate set of eyes. Sergeant, I want you on it. Gather teams of pilots and co-pilots and spread them out,” Carter addressed Stackhouse.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Radek, you’re the teams’ contact here in Atlantis. Right now I want you to try and hail the Deadalus and inform them of our situation. Once you’re done, start uploading the cruiser’s schematics onto the life signs detectors. Rodney, go get the generator ready. John, have your men ready to go in fifteen minutes. This is a job for a small strike team so take Rivers and Major Lorne’s team and go in two Jumpers. Let’s go, people,” Carter concluded, and people got up and scurried away to their respective tasks, piling out of the conference room.

“Sergeant,” Sheppard called Stackhouse over the commotion. Stackhouse turned to him with an attentive expression.

“Yes, sir?”

“Round Miller, Williams, Rivers and Hansen and inform them to be ready and wait at the Jumper bay in ten minutes,” Sheppard ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Stackhouse acknowledged and hurried away to do as he was told.

Lorne began making his way to the transporter and to the armory. He needed to gear up.

He smiled ruefully. The evening began so nicely, but somehow that seemed light years away into the past. Sheppard’s kiss, Sheppard’s hands combing through his hair, the taste of American beer, it all felt faded off a little. All that remained was the immediate threat and the fact that they needed to fight it. Lack of sleep, plans, none of it mattered. This was what he was in Atlantis for. Later they would pick up where they left off, but Lorne knew and acknowledged to himself that there might not be a later. It made a knot form in his stomach.

Sheppard caught up with him and they walked in silence to the transporter, faces set and grim. When they entered the transporter Sheppard hit the console and got the door closed.

As soon as the door was completely shut Sheppard grabbed Lorne’s shirt and pressed him against the wall, pinning him down with his body, lips devouring Lorne’s mouth with savage force.

Lorne returned the kiss with the same brutal force that it was given. He knew that Sheppard would do that, knew it because this was what he wanted to do as well. And if Sheppard wouldn’t have done that, Lorne would’ve.

This time Lorne wasn’t content with allowing Sheppard to leisurely explore his mouth. He kissed back, fought to dominate the kiss and to breach into Sheppard’s mouth, and allowed his hands to roam from Sheppard’s ass and thighs up his back and into his hair. He wanted to taste and feel as much of Sheppard as he could in the short time they had, and he would be damned if he wouldn’t make it memorable for Sheppard as well.

They parted with the same abruptness that got them close, bodies still flushed together, breathing heavily against each other and looking at each other with determination in their eyes.

“We have some unfinished business, Evan. Don’t forget that,” Sheppard warned, his hand squeezing warm and reassuring where it rested against Lorne’s pulse point and neck.

“Yes,” Lorne admitted, short of breath. “Yes, we do,” he said and stole one last peck from Sheppard’s bruised and red lips. They stepped back and Lorne pressed the dot that would take them to the armory.

When they strapped on their equipment in silence Lorne wondered why the Wraith couldn’t pick out any other day but today to try and destroy Atlantis.

 

####

 

“I’m telling you, there’s something fishy going on!” Williams said from his seat behind Lorne.

“Yeah, yeah. We heard all about it in length, Williams,” Miller, who occupied the co-pilot’s seat, rolled his eyes. “Had whole five damn minutes to listen to you talking at the speed of light,” he muttered.

“I didn’t, so tell me,” Lorne said, throwing Williams a smile. They were already fifteen minutes into the flight and other than going over the mission plans and intel they had no real chance to talk amongst themselves.

“Oh, please don’t, sir,” Hansen, sitting across from Williams, buried his face in his hands.

“Easy, Hansen. Just hum to yourself and let Williams do the talking, will you?” Lorne said, placating. Missions such as these were stressful, Lorne knew. There wasn’t a single time in the history of the expedition when someone went into a Wraith stronghold and came out unscathed.

The Wraith were smart. Not smart enough to defeat the Ancients – that they did with greater numbers – but then no one on Atlantis, not even McKay, was as smart as the Ancients. Everyone was acutely aware of that but being soldiers and men none of his teammates allowed themselves to break and reveal their discomfort or fear. So Lorne was aware of the importance of placating his men and channeling their energy and nervousness to harmless things like small talk and friendly banter.

“All I’m saying is that it’s strange, don’t you think?” Williams said passionately. “We’re dealing with one cruiser. The Wraith know our powers, they know we can handle bigger threats than this. So why send only one cruiser to attack us?”

Lorne grinned. “Feeling insulted, Williams?” he teased. Hansen burst out laughing, and even Miller cracked a smile.

“No,” Williams replied, undaunted. “I’m just saying that it’s weird. It’s not like we have a reputation for being stupid.”

“Williams, we discovered it by accident. If it wasn’t for McKay’s paranoia he would never have checked that idiot’s readings and we would never have found out about it. As a matter of fact, at first we were merely speculating. I think the Wraith counted on us never finding out until it would be too late. If we hadn’t discovered it when we did, the asteroids would pass our atmosphere, turn us blind for two hours, and they would’ve been free to do who-knows-what. Also, don’t forget that they know the Deadalus won’t be able to come to our rescue,” Lorne explained.

Williams sighed, thinking this over. “Still, don’t you find it strange that even with us completely blind they sent only one cruiser? I mean, there’s no other Wraith activity in the area that the deep space sensors picked up, right?” he insisted.

“Well, no. So they have no backup,” Lorne agreed. It did seem a bit strange, mainly because the Wraith’s strategy usually depended on their ability to overrun their enemies. “But it could also be an underling of Todd who defected and is now trying to secure himself power and a new feeding ground by taking over Atlantis. They may not have anyone else to come to their aid,” Lorne said. That was what Zelenka had speculated at some point.

“And because he’s from Todd’s ranks he knows the location of Atlantis, the fact that the Deadalus is too far away and that there’s going to be a meteor shower that would leave us blind?” Williams asked defiantly.

“What are you saying, Williams!?” Hansen snapped.

“All I’m saying is that there’s too much coincidence. Those are not things Todd could know, and I don’t think that he would have told any of his underlings about Atlantis. He needs us as much as we need him!”

“So!?” Hansen’s anger, Lorne knew, was partly due to having been forced to rely on a Wraith too many times.

“So this information is too sensitive. Things only someone from the inside would know!” Williams retorted.

“Are you suggesting that we have a spy in Atlantis?” Miller asked angrily.

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be a spy. It could also be Michael,” Williams surprised Lorne by saying.

“Well, Michael’s dead, and besides what does he have to look for in Atlantis? He was all busy creating his super-army, not finding the new, rich feeding ground. So let’s put a stop to this discussion, shall we?” Lorne ended the discussion with a firm tone.

“Yes, sir,” Williams said morosely. Miller, on the other hand, was sending Lorne a broad smile.

“Don’t you start gloating, Miller,” Lorne mock threatened.

“It wasn’t this, sir. It was just that you were depressed lately. It’s nice to see you happy again,” Miller surprised him. Lorne had no idea that his mood was that bad, or that it was that poorly concealed.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Lorne smiled at Miller both to thank him and to make it clear that no further questions will be asked regarding this. “We’re getting closer. Everyone’s sure they know what to do, right?”


	9. Chapter 9

The cluster of asteroids was right in front of them and Lorne hovered in place, cloaked, waiting for Sheppard’s team to arrive. Meanwhile, Hansen and Williams got closer to the windshield and gazed out at the sight in front of them.

The darkness of space was punctured by rocks the size of a truck, as far as the eye could see. Lorne had the impression that the cluster was small, but up close and personal it was actually huge. The rocks themselves were oddly rounded, without any sharp spikes or edges, and in the distant light of New Lantea’s sun they looked green and gray and yellow with minerals.

“Lorne, you there?” Sheppard’s voice sounded over the comm. Lorne touched his controls.

“Yes, sir. We’re hovering at the edge of the cluster,” Lorne replied.

“Good. Do you see the fake asteroid on your screen?” Sheppard asked once more.

Lorne called the scanning function of the Jumper, unto which Zelenka has already uploaded the fake asteroid’s specifications, and immediately spotted the target. “Yes, sir. I see it,” he confirmed.

“Then let’s move out. Remember, we’re not engaging the enemy and we’re not going in unless we’re together and have received an order from Atlantis,” Sheppard reminded.

“Yes, sir. Moving out,” Lorne reported dutifully. It was easy to fall back to the old patterns, and Lorne didn’t even think of ‘John’ while he brought the Jumper closer.

The fake asteroid was as big as the Deadalus itself, and its color was gray and black. It was strangely oval and spiked, and it lacked the craters the other asteroids had an abundance of. And over it, not showing any signs of activity, parked two darts.

“Holy hell,” Hansen swore quietly.

“Colonel, we’re in position,” Lorne reported.

“So are we. Hold your position while we contact Atlantis,” Sheppard instructed, and continued a beat later. “Atlantis base, this is Sheppard.”

“Reading you loud and clear, Colonel,” Zelenka’s voice said.

“We’ve got a visual of the asteroid. It’s the size of the Deadalus, and is different in appearance from the original cluster. Also we have a visual of two darts, though they don’t appear to be active,” Sheppard reported.

“Do you see any entrances?” Carter’s voice asked.

Lorne looked as well. Just below him was a small, flat cut into the rock that might have been a crater, if the entire asteroid didn’t lack them.

“We see it. We’re ready to move in,” Sheppard said a moment later.

“You have a go. Establish connection once you’re out of the casing and heading home,” Carter said. Radio connection with Atlantis would be impossible inside the asteroid. “Good luck,” she added quietly.

“Copy that, Sheppard out,” Sheppard ended the transmission. “Major, we’re going in,” he gave the order. The plan was to park the Jumpers at opposite locations on the dart bay so that they’ll have backup of one was caught.

As they descended into the bay Lorne looked above him, keeping a firm hand on the controls and slowing so as not to hit anything. The walls were lined with rich veins of Naquadah. They were wide and deep, and according to their color it was weapon-grade material. The entire asteroid might as well have been made out of dynamite. And the enormity of the explosion of it would be… well, if it wasn’t for the fact that McKay’s ass was on the line just like theirs, Lorne would’ve asked again about that safe distance.

The dart bay was filled with darts, but Lorne still found a corner to land his Jumper at the designated area. Williams, Hansen and he were all double checking their equipment one last time before Lorne raised his P90 and the life signs detector and motioned for his men to move out. Miller stayed inside so that hecould supply backup if needed, and he had the ATA gene so that even if something happened to the teams he could fly back to the city and warn them or deliver any message needed.

The cruiser was eerily silent. Even the usual hum of sub-light engines couldn’t be heard, mainly because having them ignited would probably make the entire asteroid explode. On the gray, organic floors swirled white mist that rose knee high, dampening their steps. They needed to get to the first Jumper and secure Sheppard’s team and the Naquadah generator, and for that they needed to walk the length of the hallway around the bay.

Lorne positioned himself, aimed his gun and signaled Williams, who probed open the bay’s ship-wise door. The door opened with the same abruptness and lack of grace all Wraith doors did, like the folding of a beetle’s wings, but beyond it there was nothing.

Hansen took point and secured the hallway’s curve for Lorne and Williams, and within five minutes they were at the other side and faced another door. The life signs detector showed four dots which were probably Sheppard and his team, but Lorne didn’t want to risk it. He and Hansen both raised their guns to eye level and Williams got the door open.

A light from a flashlight blinded Lorne’s darkness-accustomed eyes momentarily, until Sheppard lowered his gun down. Lorne did the same. “The hall is clear for now,” he reported. Sheppard nodded, sharp and alert. Behind him McKay was holding the life signs detector and Ronon the large padded case with the Naquadah generator. Rivers had their six.

Sheppard took point, leading them back up the hallway Lorne came from and into the depth of the cruiser, holding both his P90 and his life signs detector at eye level. “Okay, there should be a door leading straight to our target right ahead, and nothing’s showing on the life signs detector so far,” he supplied, walking further down the corridor.

Lorne was securing McKay, who now handled the generator’s case, from the right. Ronon was walking to McKay’s left, Williams was behind him and Hansen was between him and Sheppard. Rivers still had their six. They were all quiet, ready and watchful, but the eerie calm remained undisturbed. 

Sheppard stopped in the middle of the hallway suddenly, frowning. He turned to look at the wall ahead of him and back at the sensor, then turned to look at Rodney.

“It says right here that there’s a door in front of us,” he hissed at McKay, angry. McKay looked panicked.

“And there isn’t?” he asked back. Sheppard rolled his eyes.

“Do you see a door here, Rodney?” he asked, exasperated. “Where did it go?”

Lorne looked at his own life signs detector, and indeed there should have been a door right in front of them.

“I don’t know. Look, Zelenka was the one who uploaded the schematics!” McKay hissed equally angrily.

“Not really helping, McKay,” Ronon growled. “We don’t have time.” And he was right, they only had forty-five minutes until they were supposed to be inside the Jumpers and making their way back.

“Look, this is an organic vessel. I imagine that to be able to squeeze it into this thing,” McKay pointed his finger up at the ceiling and presumably the entire asteroid, “they needed to make modifications. It’s not exactly hard, you know,” he explained eventually.

“So now what?” Hansen asked.

“Now we go down that hallway and see if we can take a right turn and then another right. Not even the Wraith would build a corridor that leads to nowhere,” McKay said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. Sheppard sighed and his mouth pressed into an unhappy line, but he made the military signal for ‘go’ and they kept walking.

By the time they reached a right turn and another right Lorne was beginning to feel uneasy. Even if the Wraith on board the asteroid were in hibernation usually care-takers and security guards still remaind awake, so where were they? They had passed a control interface room and a large empty cavern where cocooned humans were usually kept, but seen not a living soul. McKay wanted to access the control interface and download updated schematics but there wasn’t time and so they kept on moving. Behind him Williams kept muttering “fishy” and “odd” under his breath.

They finally reached a dead end, and looked around them. The room wasn’t anything special, simply more control interfaces, but McKay spotted a secondary shaft of the life support system, so they got to work immediately.

Sheppard, Hansen, Rivers and Ronon secured the perimeter while Lorne and Williams got the shaft open. McKay in the meantime opened the black case and inserted the Naquadah core rod into the generator, watching it lighting up with speeding red lights. 

Williams and Lorne gave McKay a leg up so that he could hide the generator inside the shaft and return the panel that sealed it closed.

“Okay, we’ve got it,” McKay said cheerfully even as he nearly fell into the swirling mist on the floor while coming back down. “I have no idea where we are or which shaft we put it in, but we’ve got it.”

Sheppard approached them, throwing a look over his shoulder. “Everything’s in place?” he asked McKay, who nodded. “Good. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he nodded his head at the others and once again they repeated the drill of securing the corners, watching the life signs detector and retreating back to the dart bay. It was almost anti-climatic.

“Sir,” Lorne approached Sheppard, looking at all directions and readying his finger on the trigger. “This is too easy,” he said. Everything was deserted. No one tried to stop them, no one tried to feed on them, no dots appeared on the life signs detector other than their own. It was too good to be true, and if there was one thing that Lorne had learned about life it was that it’s never too good.

“Are you complaining?” Sheppard asked, though he sounded tense as well.

“No, sir,” Lorne answered. It would be a miracle if they could get out of there without ever being detected.

“Let’s just get the hell out of here,” Sheppard said in response.

And that was the moment when it turned out that no miracles were left for them that day.

In an instant, multiple life signs began to appear on the detectors, and the ghostly visions the Wraith projected to confuse their victims surrounded the teams. Footsteps were heard from two ends of the corridor, closing around their position, and a screeching alarm wailed over their heads.

“They were hibernating!” McKay cursed. “Of course they were, they had to wait this long until they were near enough and they had no food supply, they were in hibernation. That was why everything was deserted and we saw nothing on the life signs detector!” he moaned despairingly.

“Yes Rodney, we were aware of that possibility, thanks! Any particular reason you’re bringing it again right now!?” Sheppard snapped sarcastically, looking intensely at the life signs detector and swatting at the ghost images around him irritably.

“Because who goes to sleep when they’re in the middle of a giant asteroid made of Naquadah!?” McKay replied, voice rising in panic.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to reach the Jumper as soon as we can!” Sheppard ordered, looking at his chronometer. Lorne did the same. They had only twenty minutes until they were due to make their escape.

“Miller’s Jumper is closer,” Lorne said, recognizing the hallway they were in and remembering where he had parked his Jumper. “We should get there before they get to us,” he added to the others.

“Let’s go!” Sheppard agreed, no longer walking but running as fast as he could, the beeping of the life signs detector getting louder and faster in their ears.

They ran up the hallway, Lorne taking the lead. When he reached the bay doors and got them open it was only due to the fact that his finger was way too trigger happy that he was still alive. On sight he shot three Wraith before his teammates got their bearings and bullets began to spray the room.

“Get in, get in!” Lorne called his men. “I’ll cover you!”

He began shooting aimlessly at the Wraith, injuring, killing or merely incapacitating, while Hansen, Rivers, Ronon, McKay and Williams ducked and ran towards the still cloaked Jumper.

Lorne was about to go after them when Sheppard’s hand pushed him back behind the door and just in time to avoid what seemed like an entire salvo of Wraith stunners. Ronon and Rivers weren’t so lucky, and collapsed against the floor after taking several hits each.

“Ronon!” Sheppard shouted, but McKay and Williams were already pulling Ronon and Rivers forward and disappearing inside the cloak. Lorne and Sheppard immediately supplied cover fire, shooting the Wraith that began to close in on the place where the team disappeared to.

“Miller, take the Jumper and get the hell out of here. We’ll be right behind you,” Sheppard ordered into his radio over the commotion of gunfire and stunners.

“But, sir-“ Miller began, but Sheppard cut him off.

“That’s an order, Lieutenant!” he barked into his radio, eyes blazing angrily when Lorne looked at him.

“What!? No-no-no, wait a minute-” McKay began, but Sheppard cut him off.

“Lieutenant, what’s your situation?” Sheppard asked sharply.

“We’re airborne, sir,” Miller replied.

There was nothing either Sheppard or Lorne could do to help them from there on. Now they had to focus on getting to the other Jumper, but it couldn’t be via the bay. Already darts were buzzing around, lifting and leaving through the hatch in the asteroid’s belly.

“Let’s go,” Sheppard said, retreating up the hallway. Lorne just began to follow when they both heard the familiar sound of heavy footsteps that was usually associated with the Wraith guards.

“This way,” Lorne pulled Sheppard back and down the hallway, back towards the shaft they had visited a while ago. There should’ve been an intersection where the first control interface was located and from there they should hopefully be able to get to the bay and the other Jumper.

“Let’s hurry, we don’t have much time,” Sheppard ordered when they were at the intersection, and Lorne looked at his chronometer. They had only ten more minutes. When Lorne raised his head, it was to jump sideways and start firing his gun at the group of Wraith guards that were chasing after him up the hallway.

Lorne found a niche in the wall and barricaded himself there, firing until his magazine was empty and four of the eight guards that were chasing him went down. It was only then, when he drew out his M9 and fired it, that he realized that he had no cover fire and that Sheppard wasn’t with him.

Cold fear washed over him, and his finger slowed its descent on the trigger. A blast from a stunner that swatted the gun out of his hand got him back to his senses.

“Colonel! Where are you!?” Lorne bellowed into his radio while he loaded another magazine into his P90, heart in his throat when no immediate reply came forth. “Colonel!”

The radio transmitted static for a second, then, “Major. We got separated at the intersection,” Sheppard’s voice was barely heard over the sound of gunfire, both his and Lorne’s, but Lorne could breath once more.

“I’ll try to move towards you, sir,” Lorne said, taking down the last Wraith only to discover five more behind it. He cursed loudly and began taking them down with well aimed shots. He was almost out of ammunition.

“Negative. Major. I’m being pushed deeper into the ship and I don’t even know where I am anymore. The damn life signs detector is useless. What’s your position?” Sheppard asked just when Lorne took down the last of the Wraith. He had no doubt that others would come so he moved in the opposite direction of the bodies piled on the floor, picking up his M9 on the way.

“I think I ran left at the intersection, sir,” Lorne replied, but it was useless because he couldn’t be sure of what he said. He reached another intersection. “Crap!” he swore savagely. Where was McKay when you needed him? And why didn’t they stop to download the ship’s schematics, damnit!?

Lorne chose a corridor based on his sense of direction. If they got split up at the last intersection then he should look for a left and another left to get to Sheppard. He only hoped he could surprise the Wraith from behind and that they would manage to get out in time. They had only three more minutes.

Lorne took a left turn and walked along a corridor, listening intently for any sound, be it gunfire or footsteps, which would tell him where he was or where Sheppard was. He heard nothing but he did reach a door, which was comforting since he was trying not to be alarmed by the fact that he was lost and on a Wraith cruiser imbedded in Naquadah and about to explode.

He fiddled with the vein in the wall for a moment, looking over his shoulder more than at what he was doing, until the doors snapped open…

…and revealed the currently deserted dart bay.

“Sir, I’m at the dart bay, somehow. I can create a diversion from here, blow up a few of the darts-” Lorne began, already fumbling for the Jumper’s remote control to uncloak it.

“Negative, Major,” Sheppard sounded angry over the comm. “Get your ass in the Jumper and get the hell out of here,” he said.

“But sir-” Lorne automatically began to argue. What the hell happened to not leaving our people behind!?

“No ‘buts’, Major. We’re already three minutes overdue to leave. Just go,” Sheppard cut him off. His voice sounded strained and he was panting. Lorne hoped he wasn’t hurt or wasn’t being overrun.

Ignoring Sheppard’s orders, Lorne uncloaked the Jumper, got inside and reactivated the cloak. He then called on the Jumper’s life signs detector and watched. Sheppard’s subcutaneous transmitter was easily picked up by the Jumper’s sensors, but the schematics were all wrong and Lorne had no idea how to get to him. All he could do was watch as multiple dots that could only be Wraith closed in on Sheppard despite his best efforts to kill them.

There was a burn in Lorne’s stomach, and his blood pounded in his ears in the silence of the Jumper. If Sheppard was dead Lorne would’ve left him behind. He knew that he couldn’t help the dead and that dead people had better chances with the Wraith than in Atlantis. But Sheppard wasn’t dead. He was alive, Lorne just couldn’t get to him, and it made Lorne want to scream in frustration.

“You’re still there, aren’t you?” Sheppard’s voice said on the radio. He sounded tired and weary, but there was no gunfire puncturing his words. Lorne hoped he didn’t run out of bullets, though the life signs detector showed the dot that Lorne knew was Sheppard currently alone.

“Yes, sir,” Lorne finally replied. “I can see you, but I don’t know how to get to you. Which turn did you take? I have enough ammunition here at the Jumper to take out the entire ship,” Lorne said determinedly.

“_Major Lorne!_” Sheppard bellowed, stressing Lorne’s rank. “Get yourself and that damn Jumper out of this asteroid now!_ That’s an order!_” he yelled into the radio, and Lorne’s back stiffened.

He knew they would have to pass this particular test someday, the test where their feelings would collide with their beliefs or their orders or what needed to be done. He simply didn’t think it would be this fast.

But there was more to it than Lorne losing ‘John’. It was about leaving a team member at the hands of the enemy, and he would rather give his own life away than leave someone, Sheppard, Hansen, Zelenka, anyone, behind.

“We don’t leave our people behind,” Lorne said, voice gone hoarse, but still his hands touched the Jumper’s controls to start the engines.

“No, we don’t. I’ll be behind you in a dart, Major. Just make sure that Atlantis have the shield up and that they won’t fire on any darts approaching the city,” Sheppard’s voice said, less hard then before.

Lorne took a deep breath. He believed in leaps of faith, just not in them working for him. But he had no choice. He would either live to regret this moment for the rest of his life, or live to be yelled at by Sheppard within an inch of his life.

This was why they were here for. They knew the risks.

“Jumper is airborne, sir,” Lorne’s voice broke on the last word, the burn in his stomach and throat getting worse.

“I’ll see you back in Atlantis,” were Sheppard’s parting words, but they both knew it was a promise that wasn’t entirely up to him to keep.

 

####

 

Lorne began exiting the narrow tunnel when a dart approached in front of him, apparently about to enter. Keeping his hand firmly on the controls, Lorne tried to maneuver the Jumper so that it wouldn’t rub the dart but the modified space was too narrow, and with a screech of metal the two vessels scraped each other.

The noise inside the Jumper caused Lorne’s bones rattle. He knew his left drive pod had been damaged but he had no way of knowing how badly and as long as he still had the pod working then that was all that mattered.

Lorne was already out of the asteroid and speeding towards Atlantis when he was hit and discovered that he had lost his cloak in the brushing with the dart.

“Shit!” Lorne cursed, hitting his radio. “Atlantis base, this is Lorne. I’m out of the asteroid and I’m heading back home, but my Jumper’s been damaged and I’ve lost the cloak. I’m coming in hot!” he declared, pushing the engines for all they had.

He was gaining on the darts, he could see it on his screen, but it wasn’t good enough.

“Major! _Zaplať pánbůh!_” Zelenka’s voice said. “Is the Colonel with you?”

Lorne winced. The hard questions were always the first ones to be asked. He had to dodge a near hit before he could reply.

“Negative. We got separated. The Colonel will fly in with a dart so don’t fire on any approaching craft. I repeat, do not open fire on any Wraith dart approaching the city,” Lorne stressed, and was then thrown violently against the controls.

He was hit again.

“Major, you’re aware that the two of you are overdue. You need to travel a lot faster than currently are to make it safely to Atlantis. Has Sheppard departed yet?” McKay’s worried voice was heard. They must still be in the Jumper, but were probably almost at the city by now.

“I don’t know, Doc. The last thing I heard from the Colonel was an order to leave with the Jumper. And I’m flying as fast as I can,” Lorne replied, irritated. He was under fire as it was, he didn’t need anyone telling him that he wasn’t going to make it.

“We can double back and-” Miller’s suggestion was cut short by both Lorne and Carter.

“Negative, Lieutenant!”

“Don’t!”

And then the radio went blissfully silent for a moment, until Lorne was hit once again. He jerked forward, the controls digging into his chest, and groaned.

“Major,” Carter’s voice was halted and neutral. Lorne looked at his chronometer.

“Please tell me you set the safety limits generously,” he asked, for both his sake and Sheppard’s. According to his chronometer the generator would reach a critical overload and explode in two minutes. He was still seven minutes away from safety, and Sheppard was even further behind.

“We did. You’re not there yet even as it is,” McKay’s voice was so sharp it hurt Lorne’s eardrum.

Lorne had no choice but to keep on flying. There wasn’t anything more he could squeeze out of his engines and whatever hits he was taking – and he was – were insignificant if he wouldn’t be able to get far enough away.

Time seemed to fly.

For Lorne it seemed like it was only a second after the end of the transmission from McKay when a huge fireball lit up the space behind him. Lorne didn’t even had time to turn his head around when he felt the Jumper leave his control and burst forward with abnormal speed, throwing Lorne against the windshield with such force that his forehead began bleeding instantaneously.

That was the last thing he remembered.

When he blinked his eyes next, he was on the floor and the radio was calling his name frantically.

“Major Lorne! Major Lorne! Major Lorne!”

Lorne was dizzy. He looked up at the windshield and saw a very large smear of blood. He felt his forehead with his hand only to discover clogged blood there as well.

With effort he climbed to his seat and reached for the communication control, and froze.

He was about to enter New Lantea’s atmosphere.

He shouldn’t be there for five more minutes of flight at least, another twelve miles, and it couldn’t possibly be that long from his passing out to his regaining consciousness. He checked his chronometer to make sure.

“Major Lorne!” the radio crackled again, and Lorne reached for it.

“I’m still here,” he said, and heard a few exclamations of relief in the control room. “Any word from Sheppard?” he asked, tensely.

There was a moment of silence that was as good an answer as a thousand voices together.

“Nothing yet but our Ancient sensors are out of commission. We only have our Earth based equipment and there’s a lot of residual radiation interfering with our scans,” Carter’s voice told him. “How’re you feeling?” she asked. 

“Bumped my head against the windshield… what happened?” Sheppard could still be out there. He had to be. 

“You caught the tail end of the blast wave from the asteroid. It basically gave you a huge push forward. How’s your hull integrity?” Carter asked, voice grave.

Lorne looked around him, and breathed deep. Nothing seemed wrong. “On first inspection everything’s fine, Ma’am. Let me check a few things and I’ll get back to you,” Lorne said, and Carter responded that she was waiting. He had a few things to check, like life support and drive pods, but before that he reached for the controls to stop his unnaturally fast descent into the planet’s atmosphere.

The controls didn’t respond to his command. Not even the second and third time he tried.

“Atlantis, this is Lorne. My controls are not responding at all,” he reported, worried. The relief he felt for surviving the blast was all gone. He had no idea how to fix the Jumper or land it if he had no control.

“Come again, Major? You’re controls are not responding?” Zelenka asked, concerned.

“Affirmative.”

“_Tohle je na prd!_” Zelenka swore in Czech, and Lorne knew that he was royaly screwed. He could feel the cold fear settling in him and knew that the shaking of his hands wasn’t only due to the blow he’d received earlier, nor because of the Jumper’s violent vibrations.

“Talk to me, Doc,” Lorne said, tense and anxious.

“OK, go to the rear compartment. Open the second to last overhead pannel,” Lorne hurried out of his chair, wobbling like a drunk and keeping a firm hold on the wall beside him. The inertial dampeners seemed to be malfunctioning and the Jumper was shaking like the Wraith were still at his tail. Which, he hoped, they weren’t. He had no way of knowing other than the fact that nothing was shooting on him.

Lorne opened the pannel he was asked to open. “I’m there, Doc,” he said into the radio. There wasn’t really any time to think about anything other than getting back alive and safe. He was already dizzy and his mouth was watering unpleasantly like he was about to vomit.

“Okay. Now take out the third crystal from the right from the second row and insert it into the empty slot at the fifth row. You should see it, it’s the only one that’s supposed to be unlit,” Zelenka instructed, and Lorne frowned.

The only one that was unlit? The entire damn thing was dead. “Doc, the entire pannel is unlit,” Lorne said, nervously.

“_Do prdele!_” There was some swearing in several languages at that.

“Is there any other pannel that’s lit?” Carter’s voice asked instead of Zelenka’s. Lorne hurried to open them all, but they were all dead but one.

“No, only the first one to the left,” he said, his heart sinking. That panel was responsible for communication and it was the only one that was lit. The other panels were dead, which meant that the Jumper was damaged beyond repair. Even the engines were probably off, as was life support and inertial dampers. He didn’t need the scientists to tell him that.

“Look, Ma’am. It’s fine. You’ve got Jumpers in the air, right? I’ll simply dive underwater and hope that there aren’t any cracks in the hull,” Lorne suggested. It will be unpleasant, and probably scarier than most of the things he’d done in his life, but it was his only option. Jumpers were, after all, very much usable underwater as well.

“No, you can’t!” McKay’s voice suddenly popped in, and Lorne realized that he had already arrived to the control tower.

“Why not?” Lorne asked.

“Because your approach is ballistic! At your current angle and velocity you’ll be smashed to pieces as soon as you hit the ocean surface!” McKay called out.

Lorne slid down to the floor, took a moment to think this over and realized that he had no idea what to do. His mind was blank, refusing to even come up with panic, and his head hurt. His vision swam, and it was the only thing he could focus on for a moment, watching the darkened pannels drifting back and forth in front of his eyes.

Lorne slapped himself hard on his cheek. He was slipping. Must be a concussion. Probably the fact that there was no longer air recycling wasn’t helping either.

“Anyone have any good news to tell me?” Lorne asked tiredly into his radio. He was hot everywhere and his fingers and legs were all pins and needles, like he had sat on them too much.

“Stay with us, Major. We have a plan to save you,” Carter’s voice said, encouraging. 

“Anyone wanna tell me about it, Ma’am?” Lorne asked, weary. His head was getting heavy and he slapped his cheek once more to keep himself alert.

“We’re calculating the shortest and safest distance for you to jump out of the Jumper and into the water,” Zelenka said.

Lorne’s eyes opened wide at that. It was madness. How the hell was he supposed to jump into the water from the Jumper?

“Okay,” he said, slowly. He knew the answer to that, but he still had to ask. “Uh… Sure. Where did we put the parachutes?”

“You don’t have one. Look, just do as we say and everything will be, uh…” McKay trailed off, uncertainly.

“Major, you don’t have much choice. It’s either that or going in and dying,” Carter took over.

Lorne sighed. Given how crazy this entire evening had proven to be so far, jumping off of a ballistic Jumper won’t be that far a leap. The figurative one, of course. 

“Okay, what do I have to do?” Lorne asked, bracing himself. He scrounched up every bit of alertfulness he still had and dragged himself to his feet, keeping a tight hold on one of the pannels to stabilize himself against the shaking. The adrenalin that shot through his system at hearing his rescue plans helped a little, too.

“Take off your clothes,” McKay ordered. Lorne nodded, beginning to see this as one giant pool to dive into. He’d done diving in high school. Even practiced in Olympic pools. He only hoped he would’ve been better at that, now.

Lorne took off his clothes with some difficulty. His fingers felt clumsy and fumbled with the laces of his boots and the button fly of his uniform pants, and his head hurt when he bowed it to take off his t-shirt. The shakings kept making him trip.

“What’s next?” Lorne asked, once he was standing in his underwear and dog tags. He did as he was instructed and tried not to think about what he was about to do next. It was disturbing enough to stand almost naked in the Jumper without thinking about why he was doing it.

“Uh… rear hatch. There’s an emergency button on your right side, next to the rear hatch. Open it and hold tight to something because the wind is gonna be a killer,” McKay instructed, and then, “Wait!”

Lorne was just about to reach for the red button, but when McKay spoke he withdrew his hand with haste. “What?” he asked, heart pounding. What was it that he was about to do wrong?

“What kind of underwear are you wearing today?” McKay asked. Lorne simply stared ahead, wondering if he heard correctly.

“What kind? You want color and pattern as well, McKay, or do you want to skip straight to the erotic call?” Carter snapped sarcastically.

But Lorne, being a swimmer, caught up after just a moment. “Not the good kind, Doc. I’m wearing the issued boxers,” Lorne answered. They were dark gray, worn and soft, sticking close to his legs and ass but not clinging. 

“Good, see? _He_ understands. I wanted to know because we need to create as little friction with the water as possible. From the height he’s going to jump every resistance could mean breaking a limb or worse, his back or neck,” McKay snapped back at Carter. Lorne knew it, of course, and was already taking off his boxer shorts and his dog tags with apprehension.

He held his dog tags in his hand and suddenly remembered Sheppard’s words.

_Your tags. They looked exactly as they did when we found them on a burned Genii body after you were kidnapped. Made me think of how I thought you’d died. But it wasn’t the same as then._

He believed Sheppard’s promise to meet him back on Atlantis. He had no choice, because he had to believe that to believe that he would come out of a dive this deep alive.

“I’m…” Lorne stopped himself from saying ‘completely naked’. He would probably never hear the end of it if he would announce it to the entire control room. If he survived, that is. “I took down everything that might create resistance,” he said.

McKay, of course, couldn’t leave things alone. “So you’re naked?” he asked, interested and stressed out at the same time. “Aw!” he said immediately after, and Lorne thank whoever it was that had smacked McKay for him.

“Major Lorne. We’ve finished our calculations. You need to be ready. In two minutes we will tell you to jump. When we say it do not hesitate, jump into the water. Any later than when we tell you to and you might be hit with the debris of the Jumper. They should be bouncing a long distance, I’m afraid,” Zelenka said instead of McKay.

“Yes. And keep your arms as close to your body and as straight as you can,” Carter added.

“No, Ma’am. I’m doing this in a headspring,” Lorne countered. “That way I can surface faster and I can break the water resistance with my hands better,” he explained, images of his own videos performing dives returning to him. He was fairly good with the entering the water part. It was the flips and twists before it that he did below average.

“Major, if you enter at a wrong angle you’ll snap your spine. You can end up paralyzed for life if not worse,” Carter warned.

“Which height am I going to be jumping from?” Lorne asked.

“Ninety feet,” Zelenka replied. That was a little more than twice the Olympic springboard. And if a jump of thirty-three feet took him almost sixteen feet deep, then a jump of ninety would take him forty feet deep. Probably even fifty.

“A headspring is still my best option, Ma’am, and I know how to do it. I was in the swim team in high school, and I’ve done some diving for a time as well. I will need to rise from fifty feet deep, and a headspring will give me a chance to arch up instead of fighting my own momentum,” Lorne explained.

“You know, he’s actually right,” McKay said, sounding amazed. “You dived? Like, professionally?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yes. Now can I open the rear hatch?” Lorne asked. He was naked and too hot, his head was exploding with pain and he was terrified, but he was also prepared and the clock was ticking. The adrenalin helped keeping him more alert than before, which was good, but he needed to do something or he’d slip once more.

“Yes. And be careful of the strong winds. The Jumper will protect you because of its aerodynamic structure, but it can still be strong and you’re flying faster than a bullet,” McKay said, typically not really reassuring but straight to the point.

“Once we tell you to jump, jump and get rid of your earpiece,” Zelenka added.

“Okay. I’m opening the rear hatch,” Lorne said, grabbing a hold in the netting overhead with one hand and, not giving himself time to think, pressed the red button on the Jumper’s side with the other. The hatch blew out, and the force of the wind was almost enough to tear Lorne’s shoulder out of its socket. His body was sucked out, and only with an effort did he manage to get himself back inside the Jumper.

After the initial burst of wind the suction calmed a little, and Lorne’s head hurt less. He could now think clearly enough to understand that the CO2 levels inside was higher than usual, since life support was damaged as well during the first hit he took. Luckily it wasn’t anything that affected him too much, especially now that he got to breathe fresh air.

Lorne stood at the edge, looking out into the darkness at the approaching water below. It wasn’t much different than being on a roller-coaster. Everything seemed to be getting close at a frightening speed in the blurred blackness below him. He was lucky that the moons were shining, though he wished it was daylight. It was easy to forget that this was still the same night he and Sheppard had their first date. It felt so much longer.

“Are you ready?” Lorne almost didn’t hear Zelenka over the howl of the wind. He pressed the earpiece further into his ear with the hand that wasn’t still holding the overhead netting to hear them better – and to be able to get rid of it quicker.

He positioned himself on the edge of the Jumper as steadily as he could, and took a few deep breaths. The fear was almost incapacitating, but he never allowed himself to think he wouldn’t make it.

“I am,” he bellowed back into his earpiece. An absurd thought passed through his mind. He could finally perform that reverse three-and-a-half somersaults he never quite managed to in high school. His coatch was always very disappointed in him because of it.

“Almost there!” McKay bellowed into the radio so that Lorne could hear.

Lorne took more deep breaths, his muscles tense and his chest tightening.

“Now!”

Lorne jumped.

He began with a reverse twist and continued to the three-and-a-half somersaults, then a forward one-and-a-half twist and then a back dive and half a twist before bringing his body into position and spreading his hands over his head, fingers ready to pierce the water. It wasn’t for the fun that he was doing it and not because his body fell to the familiar training routine, it was also to slow his dive.

His hands hit the water with unimaginable force that sent incapacitating shockwaves up his arm and shoulder, but it helped ease his entry. He dived down and down, the force of his movement pushing him onwards and the surface getting further and further away.

Lorne was barely conscious. The water made impact with his body with the force of a car crash, and his lungs lost the reserves of air he held in them because of it. He could barely see because the water was dark and cold. The very touch of it on his skin was hurting him.

But as Lorne’s mouth opened automatically to take a gulp of air he regained some alertness and rolled his body sideways to break his descent. He used the momentum of his descent to give him a push up, but in the water movement required a lot more force than that to lift him all the way up.

Lorne saw dark spots in front of his eyes and the surface, with the wan light of the two moons overhead, was still far away. He kicked his legs and used his hands, gritting his teeth against the pain, his body’s natural instinct to breathe and the resistance of the water, and pushed up.

But his lungs were starved and his body was at the end of its abilities. Adrenaline could sustain him for only so long. He no longer had enough air to keep a positive pressure in his nose and the seawater penetrated his nose and down his throat, causing his trachea to constrict and making him want to cough. He could feel the power leaving his movements, his hands flailing instead of pushing up, and closed his eyes.

But when he opened his mouth to take in that mouthful of seawater that would kill him, he breathed air in instead.

Lorne looked around him, brain somewhat less foggy. He was lying on his back in the water and four marines were there with him, holding him and pushing him onto a board that was lowered down from a hovering Jumper.

“We’ve got incoming! We’ve got incoming! A dart heading our way!” Lorne could hear the marines’ radios crackling and wanted to tell them not to do anything, but couldn’t even remember how to make his vocal cords work. He choked on his breath, lacking the strength to move butter-like muscles under cardboard-like skin, but still he tried to tell them that it might be Sheppard, that they mustn’t shoot. When he finally did manage to lift his arm to make a feeble attempt at getting someone’s attention darkness swept over him.

Lorne lost his consciousness.

 

####

 

“We’ve got incoming! We’ve got incoming! A dart heading our way!” Lieutenant Donovan reported anxiously into the radio, but Stackhouse wasn’t in a hurry to call for the weapon tray of his Jumper. Instead, he brought the Jumper closer to the approaching dart and took a close look.

“Its been damaged, somehow. The color is different, and its… woah!” Stackhouse had to veer sharply to the left to avoid colliding with the dart. “Its flight pattern is all messed up,” he finished once the Jumper was safely away.

“Do not engage, Sergeant. I repeat, do not engage!” Carter’s voice came over the comm.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Stackhouse watched the dart heading towards the nearest pier, but it did not attempt to fly over the city or crash into the shield.

“Why aren’t we engaging it!?” Donovan asked, panicked. He was new, and it always amazed Stackhouse just how inexperienced the new guys could be. Always made him wonder whether he and Markham, who was long gone, were so stressed out as well at first.

“Because we’ve received an order not to,” Stackhouse replied calmly. It took a hell of a lot more than this to scare him now.

He followed the dart closely, watching it as it wobbled and zigzagged, but it didn’t try to engage any of the escorting Jumpers or self-destruct.

Everything seemed to be going alright. The dart, despite its shaky flight, slowed down as it approached to hover above the water near the west pier. Stackhouse was already smiling in relief when it suddenly dropped like a stone into the water and disappeared.

Stackhouse reacted faster than any of the others, grasping the controls and submerging the Jumper into the water as well, while Lieutenant Donovan held onto his seat and exclaimed, “What the hell are you doing!?”

“I’m going after it, sir,” Stackhouse replied with all the necessary respect.

He dived headlong into the water and emerged beneath the sinking dart.

“Brace yourself, sir,” Stackhouse told Donovan cheerfully, and a second later the Jumper shook and groaned under the weight that landed on its roof. He then began a fast ascension back up to the ocean surface.

“What are you doing!? We could be helping a Wraith! There’s a reason why they didn’t lower the damn shield!” Donovan berated him, but Stackhouse didn’t even notice. The dart just came out of the water, according to his calculations, and Jumpers and rescue teams were already in position to help.

“The dome’s opening!” Someone, Edison according to the voice, reported over the comm. “It’s Sheppard! He needs medical attention!”

“We’re on our way,” Ramirez answered from where he was sitting in Jumper 4, if Stackhouse remembered correctly.

“Good job, Sergeant,” Carter’s voice told Stackhouse. “You may have very well saved his life.”

Stackhouse smiled. “Then we’re still far from being even, Ma’am,” he answered, content.

Once he got the report that Sheppard was safely out, he rose from the water with the dart still calanced on the Jumper’s roof, then allowed it to drop down straight into the waiting hands of Major Kersey, who blew it up with a well aimed drone. Always a good idea not to leave any Wraith technology intact.

“How did you know?” Donovan asked him, awed. Stackhouse turned to look at him questioningly. “How did you know that it’ll be Sheppard and not a Wraith?”

The answer was pretty obvious. “It never attempted to harm the city, sir,” Stackhouse replied. Donovan would have to make do with that because the rest of it, of how he knew, he had no way and no desire to explain.

How do you explain that it was a combination of trust born from years of working together, a hunch born out of bitter experience and a bit of blind faith that things will be fine, a faith that no one who was stationed in the city for over a year didn’t have?


	10. Chapter 10

Everything hurt.

That was the first thing that registered in Lorne’s brain when he tried to open his gritty eyes. His head hurt like nothing he’d ever felt before, the light was too strong behind his eyelids, he had the worst throat-ache, like a hole was drilled into him, and his body was stiff and pulsing with pain.

Without his control a throaty, hoarse sob escaped him, and he immediately regretted it. It hurt like his throat was on fire and it made the sheets move over his body, which in turn made his skin hurt everywhere.

The light suddenly dimmed beyond his closed eyelids and he risked opening them again, only to find Caldwell standing over him.

“Good to see you back with us, Major,” he said cheerfully. “You gave us all quite a scare.”

Lorne tried to reply, but the hole in his throat was melting all of his internal tissues so he merely whimpered pathetically.

“Don’t try to speak,” Dr. Keller was there instantly, beginning to run all sorts of tests on him, while Caldwell scooped some ice chips from a nearby container and slipped one into Lorne’s mouth. Lorne hoped his eyes showed his appreciation.

“How’re you feeling, Major? I’m sorry about your throat, but we nearly lost you and we had to intubate you so you might hurt there for a couple of days still,” Dr. Keller said with a compassionate smile.

Considering that Lorne’s entire body was aching, a hole (a real one, apparently) in his throat won’t kill him. He was grateful for still being alive to begin with.

Dr. Keller scanned him and checked under his throat and listened to his heart and lungs, commanding him to breathe as deeply as possible. At that point even his lungs began to hurt, and he resorted to silently blaming her for everything.

“I’ve got to say, Major, I think you just outdid Sheppard in the category of most stupid and most dangerous stunt to pull and still stay alive,” Caldwell said, but his voice was affectionate and not at all accusing.

Sheppard! If Lorne’s body would have obeyed his commands he would get up to check on Sheppard, but all that he managed was a wince and a whimper again, tears of pain streaming from the sides of his eyes and down his temples from the attempt. He looked at Caldwell desperately, begging him silently to tell him what had happened.

Caldwell seemed confused for a moment, but Zelenka stepped in from beyond Lorne’s field of vision to fill the gap. He smiled broadly at Lorne and pushed his glasses up.

“You did well, Major. The asteroid blew up and incinerated the entire cluster with it. It damaged your Jumper’s systems but you managed to jump out in time, and a rescue team jumped right after you and caught you before you could drown. The Jumper was smashed into such tiny pieces, it was…” Zelenka shuddered.

Lorne begged him in his mind to skip to the important part. He was there, everything hurt, which meant that everything was fine. What about Sheppard?

“Colonel Sheppard was in a dart when the explosion occurred,” Zelenka said, and Lorne drew in a sharp breath even though it hurt like being zatted. “He was the one who got rid of all the darts that were on your tail. He managed to fly to the city but his dart and radio were both damaged and he nearly drowned as well, but was rescued in the nick of time. He was badly injured from the explosion, but Dr. Keller says that he’s going to be fine,” Zelenka said, and Lorne wished that he could smile. Instead he closed his eyes and thanked every guarding angel for Sheppard’s life.

“As for you,” Dr. Keller smiled at Lorne once she finished torturing him. She slipped another ice chip into his mouth, which helped with the dryness if not with the pain, and said, “You were in shock. Your body was in a state of complete shock from the jump and from hypothermia, and you have a concussion. You’ve been in a medical induced come for the past five days,” she reported.

Lorne’s eyes opened wide at that. Five days? But then again, if Caldwell was in Atlantis then it must be over three.

“Yes, five whole days!” Dr. Keller was too cheerful, like everyone else who had the luxury of standing on their own two feet. “And you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, so you might as well make yourself comfortable,” she added, tapping her computer tablet as she walked away.

“I’ll let you rest, Major. You’ll be fine in a week or so, and hopefully so will Sheppard. In the meantime, both Colonel Carter and myself have taken over both your duties, so rest assured that you have nothing to hurry up for,” Caldwell said kindly, fixing the sheets covering Lorne before leaving his bedside. Lorne knew that he meant well. It was well past the time Caldwell tried to enforce changes on the city and take advantage of the fact that there was no military commander in place.

Zelenka smiled at him, being the last to remain at his bedside. He walked around Lorne’s bed and with a wink moved the privacy curtain a little sideways. He then left without a word.

Lorne took a deep breath and turned his head around. It hurt, but it was worth it.

On the bed beside him was Sheppard. He had bruises on his forehead and white gauze bandages were sticking out of the V collar of his hospital-issued gown. But he was also breathing steadily in and out, his eyes were moving under his eyelids and he was going to be fine.

They were both going to be fine.

 

####

 

A week and a half later Lorne was released from the infirmary. He was ordered a lot of bed rest, was prescribed three different sets of pills for the next few days, and was ordered to come to the infirmary twice a day for inspection. After he insisted, Dr. Keller relented and allowed him some light work like reports and mails, but nothing at the office and nothing too long.

Sheppard was released the day before, having woken up with a similar concussion, a few battered bones and numerous bruises that began to color up in a variety of shades.

They didn’t have much time to talk after Sheppard regained consciousness because by the time Lorne got his voice back Sheppard’s bed was moved to the other side of the infirmary so that Dr. Keller could scan Lorne more frequently without disturbing both of them. There was an angry tension between them and when they did talk it was only mundane conversation and strained banter.

They never talked about their date, about what had happened at the cruiser or how Sheppard managed to get out. Sheppard told that last one to Carter while Lorne was asleep, and Lorne heard only bits and pieces from the nurses and from his visitors at the infirmary. He knew that they would have to talk about it soon, and he preferred to get this done with as soon as he could. He knew that Sheppard was angry, but he was angry as well and they both had things they needed to say.

So after being released, instead of walking to his own room he went to Sheppard’s room straight from the infirmary. The painkillers were still in his system and he felt relatively fine for the time being.

Lorne knocked lightly on Sheppard’s door and waited. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have to wait long.

The door opened almost immediately, as if Sheppard stood on the other side and listened for that particular knock, and he was invited in.

Sheppard’s quarters were the same as when they left them, two weeks that felt like a lifetime ago. Even the CD case was still exactly where Lorne left it, open at the same page. This time, however, a gentle breeze was coming in from Sheppard’s tiny balcony and light spilled from the windows to show what a beautiful day it was outside.

“Hi,” Lorne said, not knowing whether he should address Sheppard as ‘Sir’ or as ‘John’.

“How’re you feeling?” Sheppard replied, leading Lorne to sit on a white couch while he himself sat on his bed.

Lorne shrugged. “Nothing hurts anymore except for my head, and I was given painkillers for that. Other than being completely drained and weak, I’m okay. How’re you?” he asked, once again with no title or name.

Sheppard shrugged. “Bruises, concussion, a few scabs that itch like hell… the usual,” he said, and then looked into Lorne’s eyes and Lorne knew that the small talk was over. “We need to talk, Evan,” Sheppard said, serious.

Lorne was relieved. At least now he knew how to address the issue before them. “Yes, we do,” he agreed, looking back at Sheppard with no intentions of apologizing for his actions.

“You disobeyed my order, Evan,” Sheppard said, voice hard and uncompromising.

“Yes, I did,” Lorne once again agreed, because there wasn’t any other answer he could give.

Sheppard suddenly leaned forward, bringing them closer. “I thought that we talked about it, Evan. I told you that if we’re going to do this together then there are going to be some lines we can’t cross, and you just crossed the most important one! You disobeyed my order in the field,” Sheppard accused, eyes unreadable. His voice never went up in volume but it was as effective as a scream.

Lorne, however, served enough time with Colonel Edwards to be familiar with such a voice. “Of course I disobeyed your orders, John. You ordered me to leave you behind on a damn asteroid about to explode with no viable means of escape,” Lorne explained rationally, calmly. It was the kind of calm before the storm.

Sheppard’s eyes flashed. “Why? We talked about it, why did you do it!?” he demanded, his anger now showing.

Lorne was angry as well. Angry that Sheppard didn’t understand. “Because we don’t leave our people behind, that’s why!” his voice was low and intense, and he looked Sheppard straight in the eye when he answered him. “Beyond the fact that it was you that I was leaving behind, you ordered me to leave one of my _men_ behind and save myself!” he accused back. Sheppard wasn’t the only one who had accusations to make.

“You damn right I did! But we talked about it-” Sheppard began hotly, seemingly baffled by Lorne’s sudden anger.

“Did we?” Lorne cut him off. “Did we talk about you ordering me to leave any of my men behind? I don’t recall that. I recall us talking about putting Atlantis before our feelings, not ignoring one of the lead principles of this expedition!” he snapped. He was waiting to say that for the entire time they were in the infirmary, and he needed to make Sheppard understand that this was a relationship of equals. He was as deeply in love with Sheppard as Sheppard was with him, and he could get mad at Sheppard just as Sheppard could be at him.

“What are you talking about!? I gave you an order and you ignored it, it’s as simple as that. If you say that it wasn’t because of your feelings for me then maybe we should take this somewhere more formal!” Sheppard said, angry and harsh.

Lorne was somehow not amazed at all. Sheppard didn’t really understand the impact he’d made on other people. “You really don’t understand what you just did? You gave an order that goes against everything you taught your men to believe in, John. Your entire command could be summed up with this one principle, ‘we don’t leave our people behind’.” Lorne explained. “Miller disobeyed your orders the first time, and I disobeyed it four times. I would have done it again, _and for anyone_,” Lorne told him, and then reached the part he was most wary of. “If you want to take this someplace more formal, go right ahead. Just tell me where I stand in the meantime,” he told Sheppard quietly.

Sheppard was disturbed by what he was hearing, Lorne could tell. Lorne knew it was a lot to take in. A commander whose message to his soldiers is to disobey their superior’s orders?

“I…” Sheppard looked down and rubbed a hand over his face. “I guess I can accept that,” he said eventually, surprising Lorne.

“Can you? Can you accept that I couldn’t leave without knowing that you’d follow?” Lorne asked, trying to catch Sheppard’s eye.

“I… would’ve done the same,” Sheppard said finally, uneasily, face much softer and relaxed when he looked up. Looking into his eyes Lorne was suddenly reminded that their war with the Wraith started because of the exact same thing, the principle of never leaving their men behind. 

Lorne smiled his first genuine smile since waking up. “Yeah. Yeah, you probably would,” he mused, his hand reaching for Sheppard’s. They jeopardized an entire galaxy, as well as their own lives, for this principle. If Sheppard could understand that then maybe they had more of a chance to make this relationship work than Lorne had first thought.

“The lines are clear for me, John. Those of our relationship, those of our duties as military commanders and those of our responsibilities as human beings,” he said, squeezing the fingers interlaced with his.

“Then what made you comply?” Sheppard asked, looking at their joined fingers instead of at Lorne.

“Exactly what we talked about right now. Once I knew that you had a way out I wanted to stay with you and see that you’re really going, but I couldn’t. I had no reason to disobey the order a fifth time,” Lorne explained.

Sheppard smiled, embarrassed. “I guess that the lines are more blurred with me than they are with you,” he confessed, uneasy. If Lorne could trust himself not to faint he would’ve kissed Sheppard in reassurance. But he didn’t, so he had to settle on words.

“Well, you do have overly developed sacrificial tendencies,” he said with apparent playfulness, but was only half kidding. “But this is what makes you the commander that you are. For better and for worse,” he added honestly, and smiled into Sheppard’s eyes when Sheppard turned to look at him. “The city still stands,” he repeated Zelenka’s words to him from a while ago.

Sheppard grinned. “Yes, it does,” he said, and then looked at Lorne somewhat embarrassed. “You know, this wasn’t exactly the first date I had in mind,” he confessed, and they both burst out laughing, all the uneasiness forgotten.

 

####

 

Lorne knelt on his bed, his legs spread wide, groaning and biting his lip. He didn’t want this to end too soon but he needed to be prepared.

Closing his eyes, he inserted another finger.

 

####

 

Lorne knocked on Sheppard’s door. It was late in the night and he was feeling strange, walking after having loosened himself earlier. But he was finally given a clean bill of health, as has Sheppard not long ago, and he needed to make the most out of it. He swore to himself that before the next emergency comes he would have a chance to be with Sheppard at least once.

Sheppard answered his door barefoot, wearing soft cotton sweat pants and a black t-shirt with a white panda print, looking all ready to go to bed. He was surprised to see Lorne at his door.

“Hi,” he said, smiling and stepping aside to let Lorne enter. No one was at the hallway and no one saw Lorne come in. Lorne checked it but allowed Sheppard to check it as well. “What are y… mmn!”

Lorne didn’t allow Sheppard to finish that sentence. As soon as the door was closed he moved forward and cupped Sheppard’s nape in his hand, sneaking his tongue into Sheppard’s mouth and kissing him deeply.

After the initial surprise Sheppard kissed back, still tender and playful, suckling on Lorne’s tongue and curling his hand around Lorne’s neck. Lorne took that as encouragement and slipped his own hand under Sheppard’s shirt, feeling the warm skin in the small of his back and caressing his way up.

This, however, brought the resistance out of Sheppard.

“Evan,” Sheppard’s hands were pushing him back and Sheppard’s head was turning to the side to avoid Lorne’s lips. Lorne, despite his overwhelming desire to kiss every inch of his skin, obediently stopped and looked at him, expectant.

“You remember what we said about taking it slow, right?” Sheppard asked him, serious, though his hands were still holding onto Lorne’s shoulder and neck.

“Yeah, I remember. But I just received a clean bill of health after jumping ninety feet into the freezing ocean and nearly losing you in a Wraith dart. I want us to do this now,” he told Sheppard earnestly. “I have been thinking about it ever since our talk,” he added, kissing Sheppard shortly on the mouth.

Sheppard still seemed uncertain. “Please, John. I really, really want you to fuck me right now,” Lorne added, voice gone husky and low. With satisfaction he saw Sheppard’s eyes widening.

But he had underestimated Sheppard’s stubbornness. “Damnit Evan! You’re not my fuck buddy,” Sheppard growled, a spark of anger mixing with the desire that was evident on his face.

Lorne smiled warmly, feeling his desire for the man in front of him rising. “Okay,” he murmured, “I’ll revise that. Right now I really, really want you to make love to me, John,” he corrected, and Sheppard’s head bowed down to rest against his.

“You’re incorrigible,” he said, resigned. Lorne might’ve said something about that but Sheppard’s lips were on his, Sheppard’s tongue was in his mouth, and Sheppard’s hands were sneaking under his shirt and sweeping over his chest.

Lorne moaned into the kiss, relishing the rasp of stubble on his skin and the softness of the lips caressing his. His hands roamed Sheppard’s back and down to his ass, cupping the firm mounds and bringing Sheppard closer.

Lorne had to admire Sheppard’s resistance. He didn’t think he would have been able to even talk while sporting an erection like Sheppard’s, and he slowly and deliberately began grinding his own erection against it.

Sheppard’s mouth broke from the kiss and they both gasped, holding onto each other and taking a deep breath. “Bed,” Sheppard said, short of breath, and his hands came out from under Lorne’s shirt to take Lorne’s hand and pull him to his narrow bed.

Lorne toed off his shoes and took off his shirt before climbing up and arranging himself comfortably. He didn’t take off his tags on purpose, remembering the significance they held for Sheppard. He looked at Sheppard only to find him watching Lorne’s chest with a wicked smile. It looked like that kiss got Sheppard in the right mood.

“A late bloomer, huh?” Sheppard murmured, taking a seat on the bed beside him and running his hand first on Lorne’s tags, then over his chest and through the short hairs dusting his sternum. “Didn’t know late bloomers had such impressing features. Always though they were wusses,” Sheppard drawled, thumb sweeping over Lorne’s nipple. Lorne gasped and arched into his touch involuntary, and Sheppard chuckled.

“Like what you see?” Lorne asked huskily, wanting to feel Sheppard’s hands and mouth all over him. But Sheppard seemed to be in a teasing mood, and Lorne was afraid he’d die of frustration before they would even get to the good parts.

“Oh, I like it very much,” Sheppard replied, crawling up to kiss Lorne’s lips shortly and then to suck hard on his pulse point. Lorne cried out at the sudden sensation, his hands twisting in Sheppard’s hair and around his shoulder as teeth and lips and tongue began biting and kissing and licking at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“I’m going to leave a mark here, Evan,” Sheppard said into his ear, not even lying over Lorne but supporting his weight with his hands. The warm gust of air sent shivers down Lorne’s spine and made his cock jump in his too-tight boxers. He tilted his neck to give Sheppard better access. “I’m going to leave a mark here and no one is going to ask you about it and you’re not going to tell,” Sheppard stated lowly, and continued tantalizing Lorne until Lorne begged.

“John!”

Sheppard backed away and surveyed his handiwork, a smug smile tugging on his lips. He stood up and took off his shirt, revealing taut chest muscles under coarse, black chest hair that spread like an hourglass from his collarbone down towards his crotch.

Lorne’s hands craved to touch him, and when Sheppard was within reach Lorne tugged him closer and allowed his hands to roam over the coarse hair and the pink, perked nipples. Sheppard groaned and closed his eyes, on all four over Lorne and causing their tags to tangle together briefly. Lorne then moved to kiss and lick at his neck, hands exploring independently, and settled on a point below Sheppard’s ear that seemed to make him go crazy.

Sheppard was pushing against Lorne’s hands almost like a cat and Lorne easily found the places Sheppard wanted to be touched, earning a strangled “Evan!” in the process. Sheppard’s body was covered with perspiration and his face was still close to Lorne’s. His luscious lips were open to pant and his eyes were closed, forehead creasing when Lorne’s fingers pinched and rubbed him.

Then Sheppard pulled back and reached for Lorne’s pants, unbuttoning his fly deftly. He looked at Lorne, his eyes dark. “Lift up,” he ordered, and Lorne obediently lifted his thighs off the bed. Sheppard dragged his pants down along with his boxers and eyed his cock, now free and arching against his belly, hungrily.

Lorne’s cock jumped at the attention, and a smirk appeared on Sheppard’s face. “Eager, are we?” he murmured against the curve of Lorne’s hipbone before dropping a scrappy kiss there, and Lorne’s hand shot up to his shoulder, holding and trying not to push. Lorne was aroused and ready for Sheppard, but Sheppard teased him by kissing everywhere from his navel to his thighs without even getting close to his cock.

“John, please!” Lorne had no problems with begging, if it got him what he wanted.

Sheppard moved up, his face close to Lorne’s. “Please, what?” he asked against Lorne’s lips before his mouth followed, covering the sound that began to come out of Lorne’s throat.

Lorne desperately tried to buck his hips up and breathe at the same time, but Sheppard held him down effortlessly with one hand and continued to kiss him demandingly until both of Lorne’s hands were around Sheppard’s neck and pulling Sheppard down against his body.

Sheppard drew back and smiled wickedly. Without breaking eye contact he licked his palm and reached down, his hand squeezing strong and sure on Lorne’s cock.

Lorne groaned, hands fisting Sheppard’s sheets and eyes falling close as Sheppard’s hand moved up and down his cock with surprising skill. Sheppard’s lips were moving down his chest to tease a nipple and he was humping Lorne’s hip with lazy thrusts. He bit and sucked Lorne’s nipple and his hand moved up and down Lorne’s cock until he hit the bull’s eye.

Sheppard’s blunt fingernail dug into the spot on the underside of Lorne’s cock just below the crown, where the smooth line arched up, and Lorne shot nearly off the bed. “Oh god! John!” he groaned wildly, hands clinging to Sheppard’s shoulders and face dropping to rest against the sweaty juncture of Sheppard’s neck and collarbone. He gulped down air and fought off the impending climax.

Sheppard looked both surprised and smug. “Liked that?” he teased, his hand squeezing up and down for a time before leaving completely. “Wonder what brought on that hot sound,” he murmured, smiling evilly when Lorne looked at him with tortured eyes.

“John,” he began, but Sheppard’s fingers were already circling the crown of Lorne’s cock, his eyes following with interest, and Lorne had to take some deep breaths so as not to come right there and then. When Sheppard’s fingers dug into that spot just below his crown he cried out again and thrust up into Sheppard’s fist.

“Interesting,” Sheppard said, and before Lorne could even warn him he was diving down and opening his mouth. The next thing Lorne knew wet heat surrounded the head of his cock, a sinuous tongue was sweeping over him with broad strokes and pushing teasingly into his slit, and insistent fingers were massaging the rest of him from root to tip and especially below the edge of the head.

“John, stop, stop!” Lorne called urgently. He was close. He was close since he prepared himself in his room, and this was not what he wanted.

“Come here,” Lorne growled, hand urging Sheppard until Sheppard’s lips were on his and he could taste the saltiness that was his own essence and sweat on Sheppard’s tongue.

Lorne’s hands pushed down the band of Sheppard’s pants, and he discovered to his delight that Sheppard went commando under them. His hands skimmed over the soft skin of the mounds of his ass, squeezing and massaging, feeling the hard muscles there work as Sheppard struggled to kick the pants down without breaking contact. And all that while they were still kissing, all tongues and saliva and sensation.

When Sheppard’s hips came to rest against his, and Sheppard’s erection began grinding against Lorne’s erection without the barrier of clothes, Lorne reached a breaking point.

“Jesus, John. Fuck me. Fuck me now, please!” he asked, whispering frantically against Sheppard’s ear.

Sheppard seemed to have lost some of his playfulness, even if none of his enthusiasm. His hands came to Lorne’s thighs and encouraged it to lift and wrap around Sheppard’s hip, caressing its underside roughly in the process.

“We’ll need something…” Sheppard panted against his forehead and dropped a kiss there. “Something like lube,” he managed, and Lorne could see from his position Sheppard’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he swallowed.

“No need,” Lorne gasped, and took Sheppard’s hand and guided it to his ass. Sheppard’s fingers felt his ass, squeezing and groping it, before slipping into the cleft. That was when he felt Lorne’s loosened and slick opening.

Sheppard groaned, a sound that came from deep in his chest and vibrated all the way to Lorne’s. “Oh my god, Evan! You-” he cut himself short, his breathing labored and his cock getting even harder against Lorne’s hip. Lorne knew what he was imagining. He was imagining Lorne fucking himself on his own fingers just before coming to Sheppard’s quarters.

“Yeah, Yeah, I did. Thought of you the whole time,” Lorne said hoarsely, writhing under Sheppard’s wandering hands.

Sheppard groaned and his mouth found Lorne’s and crushed it brutally, his tongue thrusting wildly inside and milking Lorne’s breath away. But this was still not what Lorne wanted. Lorne wanted to feel Sheppard in him, hard and warm and filling, wanted to feel Sheppard move in him and come in him. And Sheppard was taking too damn long. The exploration and the tenderness Lorne wanted to save for a different time. Right now he wanted hard and deep, fast and dirty.

Lorne lifted himself on one elbow and pushed Sheppard away. Then, with one fluid motion, he reversed their positions, bringing Sheppard to lie on his back and Lorne to straddle him.

“I want you in me now, John. As deep as I can take you,” Lorne panted, straddling Sheppard’s groin in the air. Sheppard’s eyes were so dark that Lorne could not see the gray anymore, and clouded with lust.

Lorne took Sheppard’s cock in his hand, stroking it once and feeling the smooth skin and the hard tissues underneath, before grasping it and guiding it to his hole. “I’m a demanding bottom. You should know that,” Lorne warned, and impaled himself on Sheppard’s cock.

They both moaned in length, Sheppard’s hands coming up to dig into Lorne’s hips and hold him down. Lorne had taken all of Sheppard in with one swift motion, and he gritted his teeth against the burn and the pain. It’s been five years since he did this and even longer since he did this in this position, and he was the only one of them that was slick.

“This is incredible,” Sheppard was buried inside of him balls deep and was rocking a little, trying to get used to the tightness and hotness around him and still keep his eyes open to look at Lorne with a lustful expression. His cock was lean but it was long and his head was wide and blunt, and it was sitting just against Lorne’s prostate and making Lorne shiver.

With a deep breath Lorne began to move, using his legs to push him up and then impaling himself back down, savoring the burn and the fullness and the wave of almost weakening pleasure whenever Sheppard hit his prostate.

After a few seconds Sheppard got the hang of it, meeting him thrust for thrust, bucking up until the wet sounds of flesh against flesh filled the room and the pounding of blood filled Lorne’s ears. He wasn’t going to last long, he knew it, could feel it in the way his entire body shivered and pounded in time with his frantic heartbeat, and neither would Sheppard. Sheppard’s breathing was already labored and his cock was swelling even more in Lorne’s ass, increasing the friction and the pleasure.

Sheppard hand reached for Lorne’s cock, wet and rock hard and pulsing heat, and his thumb moved over the head and down the shaft, squeezing his balls and disrupting his rhythm. Lorne’s breath hitched uncontrollably.

“God, John!” he had no idea what he was saying, only that Sheppard’s cock was fucking him hard and fast and that Sheppard’s finger was pushing against that bundle of nerves on the underside of his cock. Then he was coming violently, shooting all over his own belly and Sheppard’s chest with blinding force.

He still retained the sense to clench his muscles around Sheppard, still managed to drag himself into alertness to see Sheppard’s face tightening, and then Sheppard thrust into him and held, cursing, “Oh, fuck, Evan,” and came hot and deep inside him.

They both collapsed on the narrow bed, sweaty and sticky and short of breath. But when Lorne managed to get his tired eyes to open, he saw Sheppard smiling warmly at him and finally felt Sheppard’s thumb tenderly caressing his cheek.

A few minutes passed before they found the strength to pull themselves up for a short trip to the bathroom to clean up, each in his turn. Lorne was last, and took his time since it hurt to move his lower back and thighs. He was out of practice and the sex was neither gentle nor slow. But the pain of the penetration was a welcomed burn that he deliberately awoke by forcing himself to walk a bit straighter and with longer strides.

He was coming out of the bath, still somewhat stiffly, and savored the stabs of discomfort deep within him. Every one of them carried with it the ghostly feel of Sheppard’s cock and of what they just did.

Sheppard was eyeing him as he came out, naked and spent, with apprehension. Lorne knew that he had noticed the way Lorne carried his body and the way he gingerly knelt to scoop his boxers off the floor.

“Are you okay?” Sheppard asked, slightly worried. His hands came to rest lightly against Lorne’s naked hip, caressing absently.

“I’m fine. More than okay,” Lorne replied sincerely.

Sheppard’s brew creased, and his eyes flashed with anger. “Evan, if I-” he began, upset, but Lorne quickly raised his hand and pressed a finger against Sheppard’s lips.

“John, I’m fine, just a little out of practice. It’s been five years since I let anyone fuck me. The next time won’t be like this, don’t worry,” Lorne assured him, and could see that Sheppard was now torn between feeling full of himself with pride at Lorne’s words and still being worried. Eventually he smiled hesitantly and stepped forward to bring them closer together, surrounding Lorne with his scent and warmth. 

Lorne fiddled with his boxers, too comfortable with Sheppard’s hands touching him to actually put them on. He was tired and all he wanted to do at this point was curl up in Sheppard’s arms and sleep, but he knew he shouldn’t. Caldwell was still in Atlantis and nobody knew when the next emergency would occur. He looked at Sheppard half-heartedly.

“I should go,” he said reluctantly.

Sheppard looked at him with a measuring eye. “Yeah, maybe you should,” he agreed. “But not tonight. We earned a night together, don’t you think?” he asked mischievously, and went to lie down on the bed, lifting the sheet in invitation and waiting for Lorne to come in.

Lorne smiled broadly, and gladly accepted. It was their first night together, after all. He climbed up into the bed, settling with his face against Sheppard’s shoulder and Sheppard’s strong arms wrapped around him, and inhaled Sheppard in deep.

“Go to sleep, Evan,” Sheppard murmured in his ear and kissed his temple, warm and strong and smelling of sex.

“I love you too, you know,” Lorne said, because it wasn’t right that the only one to say it so far was the closed-off Sheppard. He felt the way Sheppard’s chest rose irregularly more than he heard him laughed.

“I figured this much,” Sheppard said dryly, his hand burying itself in Lorne’s short hair. “But it’s good to hear.” 

Lorne settled to sleep without guilt or shame, for the first time in months. He was still alive and in the arms of the person he loved and who loved him back. He had just had mind blowing sex and even had a mark on his neck to prove it that no one will dare to ask about.

He was completely safe, warm and content. Nothing in the galaxy could hurt him when he’s in Sheppard’s arms, he was promised that a long while ago. 

 

 

THE END


End file.
